


this land of make believe

by shepherdofmantle (account_now_inactive)



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe-Fae, Alternate Universe-Fantasy, Background Springthyme, Clover Ebi is a little shit, M/M, Vampire!Qrow, bamf robyn hill, bc i am a simple bisexual, but that's nothing new, fae!Clover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/account_now_inactive/pseuds/shepherdofmantle
Summary: Qrow didn't mean to end up in debt to a ridiculously attractive, and infuriating, faerie, but then again, most of the time, his life doesn't go where he wants it to. It wouldn't even be that bad, if he hadn't ended up stuck in the middle of a war brewing between the courts.Oh, and he's pretty sure Clover is hitting on him. So that's great.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 90
Kudos: 124





	1. how NOT to deal with the fae feat. Qrow Branwen

**Author's Note:**

> so I'm gonna Try to update this every sunday, so I can give longer chapters, and hopefully the deadline will keep me consistent in updating! 
> 
> anyways, please enjoy, I am by no means an expert on the fae, I am just a simple bisexual with no impulse control when it comes to aus.

Qrow stumbled through the trees, shivers wracking his body, hand clasped over the wound on his arm. He couldn’t hear the Huntsmen behind him anymore- in fact, he couldn’t hear anything except the labored rasp of his breath and his feet crunching over the leaves. He stumbled to a halt, leaning against a tree to catch his breath, but the forest remained eerily quiet. 

He sank to his knees at the base of the tree, pulling his hand away from the wound. The blade had been silver-tipped, and if he hadn’t dodged when he had, he’d be dead. As it was, he might still be dead, if the blade had been pure silver. It was hard to come by, but they had been Huntsmen- with Qrow’s luck, he would be dead before sunrise, even if he could stop the blood weeping from the cut on his arm. 

He let his head fall back against the tree and closed his eyes as another shiver ran through his body. Maybe he should have listened to Raven, stayed with the tribe. There was safety in numbers, with as much as others feared vampires, but he couldn’t bring himself to stay with them as they gave others a reason to fear them, killing whole villages and leaving little in their wake. 

“Hey.” A soft voice broke through the fog creeping through his mind. “Are you alright?” 

Qrow forced his eyes open, blinking at the man crouched just out of arm’s reach, studying him with the clearest sea-green eyes he’d ever seen. He bared his fangs, daring him to try anything, though he couldn’t see any weapons on him. Not a Huntsman then. 

“Easy,” he said, holding his hands out to show they were empty. “I’m here to help you, if you’ll accept it.” 

“Why?” Qrow asked. He felt like he was missing something, his muddled brain trying desperately to put the pieces together. 

“Am I not allowed to want to help someone?” the man asked. He extended one of his hands towards Qrow, his head tilted to the side with a patient smile. “Let me help you.” 

Qrow found himself reaching out against his better judgement, taking the man’s warm hand in his. 

Not a man, his brain supplied, as he promptly passed out, those beautiful eyes staring into Qrow’s the whole time. 

He wasn’t dead the next morning, but he felt like a Goliath had trampled him, then thrown him off a cliff for good measure. The room he was in was dark, curtains drawn tightly over the windows. He was in a bed, a bandage wrapped over his arm, but he was alone. 

Slowly, he sat up and looked around, taking in the sparse room and simple blanket that had been draped over him. The man really had helped him, like he’d said, but why? Who would even want to help a vampire? 

He threw the blanket aside and swung his feet off the bed- the man had taken off his shoes, nothing else, but he didn’t see his shoes anywhere in the room. Maybe he could find them and leave, before the man realized he was awake, but if he absolutely had to, he could leave without him. 

Thankfully, the curtains in the next room were drawn as well, except for the thin line of sunlight that fell across the table in the corner. This room- a kitchen, Qrow assumed- was empty of the man, and his shoes, but he couldn’t exactly go anywhere while the sun was out, anyways. 

With a small huff of frustration, he turned to explore the house and nearly ran right into the man. He leaped back, managing to stifle a surprised hiss. Now, when he wasn’t fighting off silver poisoning, he could get a better look at him- tall, taller than Qrow by a few inches, with deliberately chestnut brown hair and a dark green sleeveless shirt that showed off his (impressive, Qrow noted) arm muscles. 

And his eyes were just as stupidly pretty as they had been last night. 

“I’m glad to see you’re awake,” he said. 

“Right,” Qrow said slowly. “Um, thank you.” 

A smile seemed to flash over his face, but it was gone too fast for Qrow to be sure, as he stepped around him to move towards the door. 

“What’s your name?” he asked lightly. 

“Qrow,” he answered. 

The man stopped with his hand on the doorknob, turning to look over his shoulder with a brilliant smile. “You can call me Clover.” 

What an odd way to phrase it, Qrow thought, and it was then the pieces began to fall into place. 

Fuck. 

The realization of exactly what had rescued him hit him like a ton of bricks, and he almost turned around and locked himself back in the bedroom. Clover just watched with those impossibly bright green eyes, as if he knew what Qrow was thinking. He tilted his head towards the door, one eyebrow raised, as if asking Qrow to follow him. 

“I can’t,” he said with a shake of his head. 

“The sunlight won’t hurt you here.” 

“What?” 

“I think you know I can’t lie, Qrow.” He pushed the door open and stepped out onto the front porch, backlit by the sunlight behind him. He held a hand out, as if coaxing an anxious animal out of its hiding place, and said, “You’re safe here.” 

“Am I?” He inched towards the square of sunlight, his eyes fixed on the faerie and that hand, extended in an offer. “You tricked me.” 

“I asked you a question. And you gave your thanks freely,” Clover pointed out. 

“I didn’t know what you were.” 

“You didn’t ask.” 

Qrow glared at him as he stopped at the edge of the sunlight. Were all faeries such shitheads? He really hoped he didn’t find out- this one was insufferable enough. 

He reached out, letting the sunlight fall across his fingers, muscles tensed to leap back at the first sign of pain. When it didn’t come, he moved farther into the light, eyes wide with wonder as he watched the light dance across his skin. With a small, incredulous laugh, he stepped outside, tipping his head back to let the sunlight fall on his face. 

How long had it been, since he’d felt the sun on his skin? 

The reality of the situation hit him again, and just like that, the excitement turned sour in his mouth. 

He turned to find Clover had moved a few feet away, watching him with a strange expression that smoothed out as soon as he looked over. He smiled that strange little smile and gestured towards Qrow’s shoes, sitting by the door. 

“Shoes don’t go in the house.” 

“Okay.” Qrow inched around him, even though he was well out of arm’s reach, and crouched down to shove his shoes back onto his feet. An odd request, but not unheard of, and he had more important questions. “So. Where are we now?” 

“My home.” 

“I figured.” He finished lacing up his boots and stood. “Where is your home, smartass.” 

Clover grinned. The bastard probably found this funny, and Qrow was not in the mood for the fae and their bullshit. He crossed his arms and glared at him, but it seemed to bounce off the faerie with no effect. 

“This is the faerie realm, of course.” 

Qrow had figured as much, but that meant he was stuck here, until Clover let him out, or he found another faerie to let him out. There was also the matter of his blunder- he’d said thank you, and so, until he repaid the favor, Clover would be able to find him wherever he went. 

“How did you know the sunlight wouldn’t hurt me?” 

The smile faded, and his voice was carefully neutral as he answered, “I knew another vampire once.” 

“Alright. What do you want from me?” 

“You’re still recovering. That can wait.” 

“I want to get this over with as soon as possible. Tell me what you want, so I can leave.” 

Clover almost looked sad for a moment, but it was gone before Qrow could be sure. He spun on his heel, striding down the steps. He hadn’t even put shoes on, but maybe the fae didn’t wear shoes? Qrow didn’t fucking know anymore, and he couldn’t be assed to care. He thought Clover might be avoiding the question, until he turned around, once again waiting for Qrow to follow. 

He glared at him with all the venom he could muster, but he followed anyways, around the side of the house and into a garden. Clover crouched down, fiddling with the leaves of one of the plants, while the silence stretched between them. 

“What do you know about the fae?” Clover asked finally. 

“About as much as anybody.” Qrow shifted from foot to foot, but Clover was focused on the plants, checking each leaf as if he were searching for something. “Don’t make deals with them. Avoid them if you can, and never trust them if you can’t. They can’t lie. And there are two courts- bad and worse.” 

Clover made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, but it was too quiet for Qrow to be sure. 

“Let’s focus on that last part.” He shifted, plopping down onto the ground and looking up at Qrow with those stupid eyes, that irritating little smile back on his face. With a sigh, he sat down across from him, leaning an elbow on his knee to stare across at the faerie. “I’ll keep it simple, because I’m sure neither of us want to go over thousands of years of fae history today.” 

“How considerate,” Qrow muttered sarcastically. 

“For a long time now, Atlas and Mantle have had a sort of truce, until very recently,” Clover continued, ignoring him. “A small band of fae from Mantle have been stirring up trouble, crossing the border and stealing from us. We’re on the brink of another war, but if we take out their leader, they’ll quiet down. Crisis averted.” 

“You want me to kill someone?” he demanded. 

“No!” Clover shook his head, twirling a blade of grass around his finger. “Just kidnap her.” 

“That’s not much better.” He rubbed a hand over his face, but he really didn’t have much choice in the matter. “Why me? Why not do this yourself?” 

“You’re not fae. You have a better shot of getting in and out undetected.” 

“Any particular reason they started stealing shit now?” 

He didn’t expect a straight answer, but the sudden coldness in Clover’s eyes startled him, so much he felt himself start to stiffen, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice, favor be damned. 

“That doesn’t concern you.” He turned, shifting onto his knees to study his plants, leaving Qrow sitting there awkwardly. So it was a sore subject, but it was a question he intended to find the answer to. In all the stories, the Mantle Court was ‘bad’ but the Atlas Court was ‘worse,’ and Clover was Atlesian. However, when Clover turned back to him, that strange coldness was gone, and he plopped something into Qrow’s hands with a smile and a command to, “Hold this for me.” 

Qrow looked down at the strange turnip looking vegetable, turning it over in his hands, until a pair of eyes popped open to stare up at him. The thing screamed in a reedy, high-pitched voice, drawing a startled yelp from the vampire. He almost dropped the thing, fumbling with it like a wet bar of soap as it continued to scream. 

A snicker caught his attention, and he whipped his head around to glare at Clover, which only drew more snickers from the insufferable bastard. His broad shoulders shook with barely restrained laughter. The shit-eating grin on his face seemed far more real than anything else Qrow had seen from him, but he couldn’t shake the glimpse of that frightening iciness he’d seen moments before from his memory. 

“Very funny,” Qrow grumped. 

“It was,” Clover agreed. “But they’re mostly harmless. Just loud.” 

He looked back down at the turnip thing, holding it up to his face. It shut up, glaring back at him like he’d been the one to yank it from the ground. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“A mandrake. You have something similar in your world, though they aren’t alive like these are.” 

Qrow hummed thoughtfully as Clover pulled more of them up out of the ground, handing them to Qrow, until his arms were full of screaming mandrakes. After a few minutes of silence, except for the incessant shrieking, Qrow asked, “What are you going to do with them?” 

“Set them free in the woods. They aren’t edible, but I can’t leave them in the garden or they’ll steal all the nutrients out of the soil.” 

He looked down at the armful of mandrakes, all glaring at him with somewhat adorable anger. He felt a sudden stab of sympathy, despite the ringing in his ears from their screaming. 

“Me too, little guys,” he murmured quietly, and pretended not to notice the way Clover’s shoulders stiffened.


	2. Qrow's Icy Heart! It's Melting!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> exactly what it says on the tin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, I hope everyone is staying safe out there!
> 
> no content warnings for this chapter

Qrow and Clover set the mandrakes free in the woods, their angry screams fading into the trees as they waddled off. When they weren’t shrieking in his face, they were actually kind of cute, not that he would ever admit that out loud. 

“So,” Qrow said, turning to face Clover and finding the faerie already watching him. “This faerie you want me to kidnap. Tell me about them.” 

“No.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“No.” 

Qrow closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to resist the urge to throttle him. Something about a reaction encouraging the behavior, or some bullshit like that. After a moment, he opened his eyes again and tried to keep his voice even as he asked, “And why not?”

“You’re still recovering. If I tell you now, you’ll run off to do it as fast as you can, and you’ll end up dead.” 

“I thought you wanted to avoid this war, or whatever. Isn’t it better if I do this quickly?” 

“Yes,” Clover snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “But you have to succeed, too.” 

“Try and have a little faith in me, after all that work you went through to kidnap me,” Qrow grumbled. 

“I don’t want you to die,” he hissed. 

The sudden force behind his words rendered Qrow speechless for a moment, and by the time he recovered, Clover had already spun around and was stalking off, back towards the house, leaving the vampire standing at the edge of the trees. He glanced into the forest- it wouldn’t be hard just to leave, but he was still in an unfamiliar realm, and there was the matter of his favor. And, as much as he was loath to admit it, something about the faerie, as infuriating as he was, drew Qrow’s curiosity. 

Like a moth to a flame. 

He shook that thought away and followed Clover across the grass. He pulled his boots off on the porch, setting them back up side-by-side before stepping inside. Clover was pulling the curtains back from the windows, letting the sunlight stream in full-force through the windows. Qrow flinched back out of habit, but the faerie didn’t even glance at him as he stepped into the middle of the room. 

Great, had he managed to piss him off already? He hadn’t even been trying. 

He cleared his throat and then, before he could lose his nerve, said, “So, if I’m going to be staying here for an extended period of time, what’s the plan?” 

“You can have the guest bedroom,” Clover said. “How often do you need to, uh…?” 

“Feed?” 

“Yes” Clover huffed, crossing his arms and looking away. “Blood. How often do you need it?” 

“Depends. Certain types last longer than others.” 

“Right.” Clover nodded. “Tell me when you need some and I’ll find some.” 

“I can hunt for myself, you know.”

“I know.” He moved past Qrow to open up one of the cabinets, pulling out a teakettle and holding it up for Qrow to see. “Tea?” 

“I’m good.” 

“Anyways, if you go out and attack something you’re not supposed to, we’ll both get in trouble,” Clover continued as he set the teakettle on the stove. He snapped his fingers beside the kettle, and a small flame sparked to life on the stove. Qrow stared openly at the display of magic until Clover’s voice snapped him out of it. “So yes, I know you’re not helpless, but you also have no idea who is who, and what is what.” 

“Right,” Qrow said, watching as steam began to rise from the kettle, despite Clover never actually putting any water in it. What else could he do? He hadn’t seen such casual use of magic, well, ever. He tore his eyes away to find the faerie watching him with something akin to curiosity in his eyes. “Listen, if I promise not to go running off right away, will you tell me about this faerie you want me to kidnap?” 

Clover frowned, but Qrow could see him thinking it over, blinking at him with those bright green eyes. After a few long moments, he nodded. He leaned towards Qrow and said, “Promise.” 

“Is this some sort of fae thing?” he asked. 

“Just do it.” 

“Fine!” Qrow threw his hands up in the air with a sigh. “I promise to wait until I’ve recovered. Happy?” 

“It’ll do,” Clover sniffed. Qrow stifled the urge to bang his head against the wall as the faerie turned around to finish making the tea. Just when he thought Clover was starting to become bearable, he would turn around and do something like that. He plunked himself down in a chair at the table and rubbed his temples while he waited for Clover to finish making his tea. “Can you even drink tea?” 

“I thought you knew a vampire,” Qrow grumbled. 

“We weren’t close.” 

“Really?” He watched as Clover sat down across from him, cradling a cup of- actually, Qrow couldn’t tell what type of tea it was. He sure as hell didn’t recognize the smell. “What was their name?” 

“Why? Does it really matter?” 

“All vampires know each other,” he deadpanned. 

Clover squinted at him, fixing him with that intense stare that was slowly (oh, so slowly) becoming less disconcerting. After a few moments he frowned and said, “I don’t get it.” 

“Get what?” 

“You just say stuff. That isn’t true.” 

“Yeah, most creatures can do that.” Qrow leaned forward, suddenly interested in the direction this conversation was going. “Clover. How much have you actually interacted with non-fae?” 

“That’s not important!” 

“Answer the question.” 

“Tyrian! His name was Tyrian.” 

“Not that question, asshole.” Qrow crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the smile off his face. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, if he could find all the ways to press Clover’s buttons. 

“Fine.” His shoulders slumped and he stared down at his tea. “My interactions with non-fae have been minimal. Years ago, members of the Atlas Court were forbidden from travelling to your world.” 

“That explains a lot, actually.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes shot up to meet Qrow’s again, his mouth twisting into an indignant frown. 

“Nothing.” Qrow grinned wide enough to show his fangs, and Clover dropped his gaze back down to his tea. Qrow held back a snicker. He could get used to being on the other end of the teasing; it might make this whole arrangement that much more bearable. Though, interestingly enough, it also meant Clover had disobeyed whatever authority the Atlas Court had, because Qrow had definitely not been in the faerie realm when Clover had rescued him. Another question he would probably refuse to answer. “Besides, you never actually answered my first question.” 

“Right.” He nodded, once, and when he looked back up, his face was carefully blank, his voice controlled and even. “Robyn. She has no claims to authority, except that she is well-liked by the Mantle Court. They refuse to give her up, and if we were to directly take action against her, it would only inflame the situation.” 

“Okay,” Qrow said slowly. He barely had a grasp on fae politics, and Clover’s vague explanations sure weren’t helping, but he’d take whatever information he could get for now, so he wasn’t stumbling around this strange place completely blind. 

“Members of the Mantle Court typically have weaker magic, but they shouldn’t be taken lightly. They won’t engage in direct fights in most instances. Instead, they use underhanded tactics to gain an upper hand. You can’t let your guard down.” Qrow had a sneaking suspicion ‘underhanded tactics’ included many strategies he himself used more often than not. “And Robyn herself is an excellent marksman, one of the best in either Court.” 

“Great. And you think I can deal with that by myself? There’s no way she’s working alone.” 

“She’s not.” Clover tapped a finger against the side of his mug, a small smile breaking through his blank mask. “But don’t worry about that, yet. You look exhausted.” 

“I always look like this. I need to know what I’m up against if you actually want me to succeed. I can’t exactly pull a plan out of my ass at a moment’s notice,” he pressed. He could, but Clover didn’t need to know that. Clover’s mouth twisted, not quite a frown, his finger still tapping against the side of his mug. 

Finally, he sighed and said, “Iron.” 

“What?” 

“Iron. It is to us like silver is to you. I know where you can get an iron weapon, when the time comes.” He downed his tea like a shot and stood. The chair scraped loudly against the wooden floor and Qrow flinched at the sudden noise. “Does that help?” 

“Yeah. Yeah it does.” 

“Good.” Clover walked over to the sink and began to rinse the cup out. Qrow eyed the stiff set of his shoulders, the way his mouth had pressed into a thin line as he stood. “I meant it when I said you look exhausted. Get some rest, I’ll be out in the garden if you need me.” 

He was already walking off before Qrow could finish his “Okay.” He glared at his retreating back until the door shut between them, but he hadn’t been wrong. Qrow was exhausted, and sleep didn’t sound like a bad idea. With one more glare at the door, he stood and trudged into the guest room, face planting onto the bed and falling asleep almost immediately. 

When he woke up again, the room was dark, and he could barely make out the shapes of the nightstand and the door even with his enhanced sight. The house was silent, and he felt marginally better than he had that day, so he pushed himself to his feet and padded out the door into the kitchen. 

Clover was still nowhere to be seen. The curtains were still open, and moonlight streamed through the open window across the floor. Through the glass, he could see fireflies, or, a close approximation of fireflies, flitting around the front yard. He stepped out the front door, electing to slip off his socks instead of stop to pull on shoes, tucking them inside his boots for safekeeping. 

The grass was cool and soft against his feet, tickling the sides of his ankles as he stepped off the porch. Now that he was closer, he could see the fireflies weren’t actually bugs at all, just small balls of light that could fit into the palm of his hand, pale enough they looked white from a distance, but up close he could pick out slight variations of reds, oranges, and pinks. One of them stopped to hover in in front of his face, close enough he could feel a gentle warmth coming off of it. 

It made a soft chiming noise and started to drift away, taking that warmth and beautiful light with it. Qrow made a small noise of protest and started after it as if pulled along by a string. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it, transfixed by the pale pink light, bobbing along in the air just out of his reach until-

He yelped as a hand grabbed him by the wrist, yanking him back and away from the light. He whirled around, teeth bared and ready to fight whoever had pulled him away from the- what was it? Clover stared at him, fingers still locked around his wrist and eyebrows drawn down with worry. 

“Qrow,” he said. “Don’t.” 

“What was that?” He gave his head a shake to clear the last of whatever had come over him and stepped closer to Clover. He had somehow made it all the way to the edge of the trees without noticing it, and he shifted uneasily, glancing around at the lights still floating around them. 

“Wisps,” he answered. “They enchant unsuspecting victims and draw them into the woods, keeping them wandering in endless circles as they leech the energy from them until there’s nothing left.” 

“Oh,” Qrow said weakly. 

“Don’t worry!” Clover said with way too much cheer. “Now that you’re aware of them and what they do, you’re not in much danger.” 

He dropped Qrow’s wrist and smiled, gesturing to the wisps around them. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” 

“If you ignore the whole leeching the energy from their victims part.” 

Clover glanced over at him, the dancing wisps around them lighting his face with splashes of pale color. “It’s the not knowing that makes them dangerous.” 

“Would have been nice to know about them before I almost got lured into the woods by one.” 

“Okay, yeah.” Clover winced. “You’re correct. But really, they aren’t dangerous as long as you don’t listen to them. See?” 

He reached out and cupped one in his hands, faint orange light slipping between his fingers as he held it out towards Qrow. Hesitantly, he peered down at the wisp as it floated in Clover’s palms. If he looked closely, he could see a small shape among the light, almost like a fish, swimming through the air as if it were water. He blinked hard and pulled back when he started to feel that strange trance come over him again. 

“Yeah, they’re kinda pretty. Happy now?” Qrow asked. Clover beamed at him, so happy he nearly blinded Qrow. He cleared his throat and looked down at the grass as heat spread across his cheeks. Stupid faerie, and his stupid smile and his stupid arms. He was going to start thinking he was growing on Qrow, and then he’d be truly insufferable. “I should go back to sleep.” 

“Right.” Clover released the wisp and it floated off. “I heard you get up, do you need anything?” 

“No.” So the faerie had better hearing than Qrow had thought. He’d need to find a way to work around that. “Just wanted a little air, when I saw these, and well, I’m sure you know the rest.” 

“Well. If you need something, my room is next to yours, so feel free to ask.” 

Ah, so that was why Clover had heard him. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Qrow smiled at him and turned to head back to the house, taking extra care not to let his eyes stray to the wisps floating around them. He felt a small pang of guilt, for some fucking reason. Clover had tricked him into a deal to fucking kidnap someone, and here he was, feeling guilty about planning to dig up more information to keep himself alive. 

One smile from a cute guy, and he was already going soft. 

Ugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, I'm actually staying on schedule so far, woot woot! 
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :3c 
> 
> feel free to stop by my tumblr, fionathymes, if you wanna yell in my inbox, and see ya next sunday!


	3. Uh Oh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: blood/violence
> 
> :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the plot thickens... kinda

Qrow woke to morning sunlight streaming through the window right into his eyes, and with a groan he rolled over and buried his face into the pillow. The bed sure was comfortable, he’d give the fae that, and he could tell by the distant singing of birds (or maybe some monstrous horror that just sounded like a bird, if his experience so far was anything to go by) that is was fucking early. He sure as hell wasn’t moving yet. 

Until he heard Clover’s voice, distant and muted, coming from outside. 

He sat up and strained to hear, but he couldn’t quite make out the words. Who the hell was he talking to, at the asscrack of dawn? Qrow hadn’t even seen any other fae around, though, he supposed it shouldn’t be a surprise that there would be others. Slowly, he climbed to his feet and pushed the door into the kitchen open. 

Empty. 

He hurried over to the window and fiddled with the latch until he managed to click it open, and pushed the window open just enough to let in the faint morning breeze- and Clover’s voice. 

“No, I haven’t, but like I said, I’ll let you know if I see anything,” Clover said. Qrow placed his voice somewhere around the side of the house, the garden, probably. 

“Well, she’s getting around Atlas somehow. How is she even bypassing the wards?” Qrow didn’t recognize that voice, but he didn’t sound unfriendly, at least. Just confused. 

“She was a member of our court, once.” 

“That shouldn’t matter. As soon as she was exiled, no, as soon as she turned her back on us and left, she shouldn’t have been able to come back. Winter designed them that way.”

“Winter isn’t perfect,” Clover said calmly. 

“Don’t let her hear you say that, she’ll kill you.” 

Qrow could almost see Clover rolling his eyes as he said, “No, but she could try.” 

“Right. Who do you have over, by the way?”

“What?” Clover had forced fake confusion into his voice, but it was flimsy at best, and Qrow had a feeling the other fae would see through it just as easily as he had.   
“The shoes. You wear shoes as much as you wear sleeves, which is never. So, spit it out.” 

“Well,” Clover hedged, drawing the syllable out. Qrow imagined the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out how to answer without getting in trouble, constrained by the fact he couldn’t lie. He almost laughed, but he wasn’t mean enough to leave him on his own, when Qrow, who most certainly could lie, was right there. 

“They’re mine!” he called as he shoved the window open and stuck one leg out, bending down at the waist to scoot through the open window. An unfamiliar fae stuck his head around the side of the house, staring at him with wide blue eyes as he finished climbing out the window. 

“There is a door, you know,” Clover said, crossing his arms as he stepped around the corner. His voice was teasing, but Qrow could see the tension in his shoulders- served him right, for tricking Qrow. 

“Well, this was faster,” Qrow retorted. He smiled at the unfamiliar faerie, making sure not to show his teeth, and added, “Call me Qrow.” 

“Call me Marrow,” he said, stepping around the corner and holding out his hand. Qrow reached out and shook it, but his eyes were drawn to the tail swishing back and forth behind him. He forced his eyes back to Marrow’s face, just in case staring was considered rude, and pulled his hand back, letting it drop to his side. 

“Can you keep this quiet?” Clover asked. 

“What, that you’re finally back in the sea?”

“It’s not like that!” Clover’s face bloomed a bright red as he shook his head. “I don’t want anyone thinking that exact thing.” 

Now that was interesting. 

“You know how he is,” Qrow said, stepping over to Clover, throwing an arm around his shoulder and tossing in a wink for good measure. He really hoped Marrow did, because Qrow did not. 

“Unfortunately,” Marrow groaned. “Anyways! I’m out, I don’t need to see old man pda, just keep an eye out, Clover. Bye!” 

Marrow hurried across the grass, and in the blink of an eye, he had disappeared into the trees. Clover buried his face in his hands, but he didn’t make any move to throw Qrow’s arm off his shoulder, so he stayed there, partially leaning against him with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Good save, but why?” Clover asked. 

“Something wrong?” Qrow asked innocently. 

“Gah!” Clover flailed his arms, finally shoving Qrow away. He laughed, dancing away just out of reach. Clover glared at him, but he made no move to come after him, jokingly or otherwise. 

“Who was he, anyways?” 

“Marrow?” He waved a hand. “He’s a friend of mine.”

“You have friends?” Qrow winced as soon as the words left his mouth, and he scrambled to backtrack. “I mean, not that you strike me as friendless. You just never mentioned anybody.” 

“No, I suppose not.” Clover shook his head. “I didn’t expect you to meet any of them so soon, in all honesty.” 

“I’m surprised you expected me to meet them at all,” he muttered. 

“Yes, well. Would you like some tea?” 

“I’m good.” 

“You can actually drink it, right?” 

“Technically, yes.” 

Clover moved to step around Qrow, calling over his shoulder, “You know, the part about not eating or drinking any of our food? That’s not true. Well, not completely.”   
“Not completely?” Qrow turned on his heel, following Clover across the grass. “I hate to break it to you, buddy, but that’s still pretty suspicious.” 

“You’re right.” Clover stopped so suddenly, Qrow nearly ran right into his back. He gestured to the steps and offered little more in explanation except, “I’ll be right back.” 

Qrow watched as he disappeared into the house, at a total loss for words for the first time in a long, long time. After a moment, he shrugged and sat down on the steps, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring out into the forest. He couldn’t pick out any shapes between the trunks, even with his enhanced vision. It was oddly unsettling- no birds, no deer, no squirrels. Just a strange stillness despite the singing of birds still coming from the leaves. 

Clover sat down next to him, startling him out of his thoughts, and held out a steaming mug of tea towards him. Qrow held back a sigh as he took it but he didn’t drink it- not yet, not until Clover actually explained what he had meant by “not completely.” 

“I’ve realized that I’ve left you in the dark on a lot of things,” he said. Qrow remained silent, waiting for him to continue as he tapped a finger against the side of his own mug. “I will do better, from here on out. Starting with this.” 

He held up his tea with a small smile. Qrow ducked his head before Clover could see him start to smile back and gestured for him to continue. It wasn’t exactly an apology, but he figured it was as close as he would ever get to one. 

“To answer your question, it is safe to drink. It won’t trap you here forever, or poison you, or steal your wits from you,” Clover said. “If it were made specifically for one of those purposes, it could. It’s smart to be careful, but you don’t have to refuse everything, if you know it’s safe.” 

“Would you ever do that to me?” Qrow asked. “Give me something so I can’t leave?” 

“I don’t know how to make one,” he said. “But, even if I did, no, I wouldn’t.” 

“That’s good to know.” 

“I thought so.” Clover smiled softly and nudged him with an elbow. “Try it. It’s not something you’ll find back in the mortal realm.” 

“You a fan of tea?” Qrow asked as he leaned down to sniff at his mug warily. 

“I enjoy it, yes, and it’s easy to make.” Clover leaned an arm back against the top step and took a sip, staring out at the forest with a distant look to his eyes. Slowly, Qrow took a sip of his own, watching the faerie out of the corner of his eye. A few moments passed in a strangely comfortable silence before Clover glanced over at him. “Would you like to come with me tomorrow? I am meeting with a friend of mine to bring her some items she requested. If you tag along, I can show you around.” 

“I would like that very much,” Qrow said, catching himself just before he said ‘thank you’ again.

Clover beamed, his bright green eyes lighting up, and Qrow felt himself start to smile as well, so he hid it by taking a long sip of his tea. It wasn’t bad tea, he decided, focusing on the strangely sweet taste instead of that frustratingly contagious smile. 

True to his word, Clover let Qrow tag along the next day, knocking on his door at the asscrack of dawn and leaving him to roll out of bed on his own. He trudged out onto the porch and bent over to pull his shoes on, while Clover knelt over a pack, checking over its contents before slinging it over his shoulder and standing. 

“Ready?” he asked. He almost seemed excited, shifting from foot to foot as he watched Qrow finish lacing up his boots. 

“Yeah, okay, I’m ready,” Qrow said. He stood and joined Clover on the grass, his eyes drifting to the pack. “What’s that for?”'

“Extras from the garden. Elm swears they taste better than what you can get from the castle.” 

“Elm, huh? That’s who we’re going to visit?”

“That’s right.” Clover started towards the trees, and so Qrow followed, falling into step beside him as they headed into the forest. They walked along a small path worn into the forest floor, nearly invisible if you weren’t looking for it. “You can’t let her know that I brought you here. If you did-” 

“You’d get in trouble?” 

“That’s one word for it,” Clover muttered. “But yes. And you would most likely be killed.”

“That’s a little harsh.” 

“There’s a reason for it.” His mouth twisted into a frown and he looked away for a moment, but Qrow managed to catch a glimpse of the grimace on his face. A moment later, the smile was back on Clover’s face as he said, “Don’t worry! She doesn’t know you can’t lie, and you’re pretty good at it.” 

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” 

“It was.” Qrow snorted before he could stop himself, his hand flying up to cover his mouth before. Clover’s expression twisted into a pout, which only drew another round of muffled laughter from Qrow. “It was! What’s so funny?”

“Nothing! It was just a strange compliment, that’s all.” 

“Well, it was the truth,” Clover said as he hopped across a small path of stepping stones to cross a river- slow-moving and calm, but a dark blue that meant it was probably deep enough Qrow couldn’t touch the bottom. He thought he caught movement under the surface, but Clover was waiting for him on the other side, and he didn’t seem worried, so with a shrug, he followed. 

As they walked, Clover pointed out various plants and small creatures that Qrow would have missed otherwise. He nodded along, taking extra note of what Clover told him was dangerous. Before long, they reached a clearing, dotted with a semi-circle of houses that Qrow only got a brief glance at as a towering woman leaped off her porch and swept Clover up in a hug. 

“I was wondering when you would show up!” she cried. “It’s been forever! Do you know how bored I have been?”

“Elm, it’s been a week,” Clover said, his voice muffled. 

“And who is this?” she asked, unceremoniously dropping him and turning to Qrow. 

“Qrow is a friend of mine,” he explained. 

“Hello! It is wonderful to meet you!” She grabbed his hand and shook it up and down, nearly tearing it out of its socket. He nodded politely and extracted his hand from her grip, but she didn’t seem to notice, thankfully. She turned back to Clover and clapped him on the back. “You know where to put it!” 

“Right. How is Vine doing?” 

“Oh, you know.” Elm waved a hand in the air. “Same as always. Quiet. He’s been visiting the library this week, but he should be back next time you come around.”

Qrow followed them as they headed back to what he assumed was Elm’s house. Clover hung his bag on a hook by the front door, while Qrow glanced down at the porch. Neither Elm nor Clover wore shoes, and he wasn’t sure if Clover’s weird no shoes in the house rule was a faerie thing, or just a him thing. 

“So. You two, you are friends?” Elm asked. 

“Yes?” Qrow answered. 

“Just friends?” 

“Elm!” Clover snapped. “You guys are insufferable.” 

“What? I was just curious! Oh, don’t give me that look,” she said, as Clover crossed his arms and glared at her. “It’s not like I was trying to set you up! I know better than to repeat that incident.” 

“Incident?” Qrow asked. 

“Oh, gods,” he groaned. “I don’t want to hear that story again, and I’m sure Qrow doesn’t want to, either.” 

“Yes, I do,” Qrow butt in. “Go on.” 

Elm grinned, her face lighting up with glee as Clover covered his face with his hands, but before Elm could launch into the story, a young woman burst from the trees in a rush of rainbow light. She skidded to a halt at the bottom of the porch in a whirl of color, her breath coming in panicked gasps. Words tumbled out of her mouth so fast, Qrow couldn’t tell one from the other, much less decipher them. A pink tail lashed back and forth behind her, and Qrow caught the faint whiff of blood every time it moved. 

“Whoa, whoa, Neon, slow down, what’s wrong?” Clover asked. He hurried to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder, while Qrow ground his teeth together and hoped that they couldn’t see anything showing on his face- he could control himself in the presence of blood, but he didn’t want to risk it, not when his life was at stake. 

“We found a body,” Neon choked out. “I’m the fastest, so I came to get help, but it was bad. Like, really really bad. Flynt and the others are still there, come on, I’ll take you there.” 

“Let’s go.” Elm hopped over the railing of her porch and nodded to Neon. “We’ll see if the culprit is still there, and then you and the boys go get help from the castle.” 

“Yes, ma’am!” Neon said. She spun on her heel and took off again, leaving a trail of rainbows that the three of them followed through the forests. 

Qrow knew they were approaching long before they saw the body. The smell of blood hung heavily in the air, and Clover shot him a concerned glance. He waved him off- if he stayed at the back and didn’t say anything, he should be fine. He covered his nose and mouth as they joined Neon and a group of three young men gathered in a small group, all staring over at the dead body curled on the ground in a pool of drying blood. 

“Gods,” Elm murmured. “I didn’t think they’d resort to this.” 

“We don’t have proof it was Mantle,” Clover said quietly. Qrow kept his gaze fixed on the body, on the long, claw-like wounds on its chest, on the gaping wound on its throat. It was violent, brutal, but Qrow had grown up in the wilderness of Mistral, and it was nothing he hadn’t seen before. And yet, something about it seemed deliberate, as if someone had been meant to find it. 

“Who else would it be?” Elm retorted, her voice rising. “You four, hurry, and stay together, just in case whoever did this is still hanging around.” 

“Why here, why now?” Clover pointed out. “It doesn’t make sense.” 

“Mantle doesn’t run on sense! Who cares?” 

Qrow tuned their argument out, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away. Pointing out that Elm didn’t seem to be ‘running on sense’ either probably wasn’t the best way to go, but the image of those wounds lingered. 

They weren’t made by weapons. 

They were made by claws- and teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, another sunday, another chapter. as always, comments and kudos are much appreciated, and i'll see y'all next sunday! 
> 
> feel free to stop by my tumblr @fionathymes (pls...)


	4. all i smell is BULLSHIT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qrow just wants some fucking answers. Me too, Qrow. Me too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry this is late, and also a little shorter than the other chapters aaaa
> 
> Edit: FIXED A TYPO LMAO

“Are you alright?” 

Qrow jumped as Clover’s voice startled him out of his thoughts, tearing his eyes away from the body to look over at the faerie. Even Clover seemed shaken, but he was trying his best to hide it, his eyebrows drawn down with concern as he waited for Qrow’s answer. 

“Yeah. Better than him at least.” He jerked his chin towards the dead faerie and turned away. “This happen much?” 

“No,” Clover answered. “Not in a long time.” 

“Are you alright?” 

“I will be fine.” He glanced over his shoulder at Elm, leaning against a tree with her face buried in her hands. “Would you like me to take you back, before more members of the Court arrive?” 

“I can make it back on my own,” Qrow said with a shake of his head. “They might want to talk to you. I’ll be fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes I’m sure.” He gave him a small smile that he hoped was reassuring and nudged him in the side. “Really. I’m not defenseless. I’ll see you later, alright?” 

“Okay.” Clover still seemed to hesitate, but after a moment, he nodded. “Be careful. We don’t know if the killer is still nearby. Or what it is.”

“You be careful too,” Qrow said. 

Clover’s eyebrows flew up, but he returned Qrow’s smile as he turned away. Qrow watched as he joined Elm, placing a hand on her shoulder, before he spun on his heel and started back through the forest before the other faeries arrived. The trail Neon had left still faintly glimmered in the shadows, and soon enough he found himself back in the clearing with that small semi-circle of houses, alone. 

He headed back into the forest, towards Clover’s house, where he’ll be alone- long enough to do some snooping and if he’s lucky, find something that will tell him more about this situation than the faerie had. 

The forest still felt foreign and eerie, like it was watching him with unseen eyes. He was intruding on this strange place, and it wanted him gone. He tried to ignore it, focusing on following the small, nearly invisible trail Clover had followed. If he tore his eyes away from it, lost focus for more than a second, he would get lost, and then he would be well and truly fucked. 

So when he lifted his eyes to cross the river, he nearly jumped out of his skin. 

The woman sitting on one of the stepping stones yelped and pitched sideways into the water. Qrow stood frozen for a moment, wondering if he should jump in after her. He was just about to leap into the water when her head popped up near the edge. She grinned, her dark blue hair plastered against the side of her face and her golden eyes shining with laughter. 

Gods, at least she wasn’t angry. 

“You scared the shit outta me,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to come by.” 

“You hang out here often?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Nah, just every once in a while.” She propped her elbows on the edge of one of the stones and stared up at him with unabashed curiosity. “I haven’t seen you before.” 

“I’m uh, not from nearby.” 

“Riiiiight,” she said with a nod. “Anything I can call you, Mr. Five o’Clock Shadow?” 

“Qrow. Call me Qrow.” 

“Like the bird.” Thankfully, she didn’t make any more bird jokes, pulling herself out of the water to sit on the edge of the stone. She pulled her braid over her shoulder and began to wring the water out of it, the smattering of blue scales on her arm flashing in the sun. “Call me May.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said slowly. 

“Of course. I’m a fucking delight.” He snorted- hearing someone who wasn’t so oddly polite was somewhat refreshing, even if he still had to think over every word that came out of his mouth. “So, Qrow. Are you staying here for long?” 

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. 

“Just roughing it in the woods? The Court isn’t very close to here.” 

“No, I’m staying with a friend.” He hesitated on the word friend, and her eyes snapped to him, her head tilted a little. 

“Really? Who?” 

“Clover,” he said, her sudden spike in interest throwing him off guard. She visibly blanched and threw her brain back over her shoulder. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Something I should know?” 

“About him? Yeah,” she muttered. Her eyes bored into his. “Unless you already know?” 

“I’m in the dark here, May,” he said with a shake of his head. “I kinda lived under a rock. Metaphorically.” 

He kept his tone glib, but his heart was racing in his chest. May’s reaction waved all sorts of red flags- either she was some sort of faerie criminal, or Clover was hiding something big from him. Not that those two were mutually exclusive. 

“Alright.” She pursed her lips as she stared at him. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll come find you, tomorrow night, and tell you what I know. In exchange, you don’t tell anyone you saw me, or that I’m helping you. Got it? I’m already running late.” 

“Okay. I can do that,” he agreed. 

She stuck out her hand, so he leaned forward and shook it. He didn’t feel any different, but she shot him a thumbs up and another grin, and he figured this was more fae bullshit. He was becoming sick of it, fast, he decided as he watched her push off the rock and disappear into the water with a small splash. 

He just hoped he hadn’t made another mistake. 

Qrow had managed to search the kitchen (and found nothing of importance except a small mandrake hiding in one of the cupboards) before Clover returned, exhausted and deep in thought. He looked up from the small game of tug of war he had started with the mandrake with a small scrap of cloth as Clover entered, closing the door and leaning against it, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“You alright?” he asked.

The mandrake took that opportunity to wrench the cloth from his fingers with a small scream of victory. Clover opened his eyes, staring at it with a look of utter confusion that drew a small snort from Qrow. 

“What…?” he asked. 

“I found him in your cupboards,” Qrow explained, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “He lives here now. Answer the question, Clover. You don’t look so good.” 

“Just tired,” he said. 

“Have they figured out what happened?” 

“Not really.” He moved over to the table and pulled a chair out. The mandrake hissed at him as he sat down, but he did little more than shoot it a bemused glance. “We identified the body, but as for who or what killed him, well. We still don’t know. Winter is working on identifying what made the wounds.” 

“Winter?” 

“The Right Hand,” he said, as if Qrow would know what that meant. He shot Clover a blank look, but the faerie didn’t seem to catch it, staring down at the table absently. 

“Do they still believe it was Mantle that did this?” he pushed. 

“Yes.” 

“But you don’t.” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Why would they? I thought you said they weren’t directly attacking anybody?” 

“I did,” Clover agreed, his tone suddenly sharp. He yelped and shot to his feet, clutching his hand to his chest and glaring down at the mandrake. It bared its teeth at him and waddled back over to Qrow, tugging at the button on his sleeve insistently. “That’s odd.” 

“Did it bite you?” 

“I must have startled it, is all. You should put it out in the forest.” 

“Hmm,” Qrow said noncommittally.

Clover sighed, but he didn’t argue. He just pushed his chair in and started towards his bedroom, pausing with his hand on the doorknob to look over his shoulder at Qrow. “I talked to a friend of mine while I was at the Court. He will be able to acquire blood quite easily, should you need it.” 

He turned before Qrow could answer and stepped into his room, shutting the door behind him. Qrow stared at the door for a moment before looking down at the mandrake, still tugging at his button. 

“Careful,” he told it. “Or you’ll make me think you like me.” 

It just chirped in response, leaning down to gnaw on the end of his sleeve. 

“Yeah, okay, gross.” He tugged his sleeve away from it and offered the scrap of cloth again. It grabbed it and plopped down next to his arm, chewing away happily while he turned over the events of the day in his mind.

“I thought we agreed you would do better,” he muttered to the top of the table. 

Clover was still hiding a lot from him, and it was looking more like he’d made a good decision- for once- when striking a deal with May.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i'm gonna say this now, may is NOT the killer, she just happened to be introduced after THAT, i'm gonna stop any of those theories right now hgkdsj)
> 
> anyways, I love her, but I wonder what she was doing, hmm? :3c


	5. may's fucking pissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what it says on the tin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with me everyone! i'm so excited for everything to start coming together :3

When Qrow woke up, the mandrake was curled up under his chin, snoring softly, but it stirred as he sat up and gave a small, confused chirp. He patted it with one finger as he sat up, slowly climbing out of the bed so he didn’t wake it up. Satisfied that it wasn’t going to jump off the bed and follow him, he stood and padded into the kitchen. 

Clover stood by the window, his hands curled around a still-full mug of tea that had gone cold, his eyes staring at his reflection in the glass without really seeing it. After a moment of standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, Qrow cleared his throat and then, when that didn’t work, again, a little louder. 

“Qrow!” Clover spun around, his cheeks flushing a light pink. “How long were you standing there?” 

“Not long. Maybe a minute or two?” He shrugged. “It’s fine. You seem distracted, everything alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m alright.” 

“Clover.” 

He sighed and set his mug down on the windowsill. That one noise sounded so small and exhausted, but it told Qrow enough: something had happened. Clover moved over and sat down in one of the chairs, his head dropping into his hands. 

“They’ve decided that, if Mantle does not turn over Robyn, they will declare war.” 

“Oh.” Qrow took a shaky breath and sat down across from Clover. “Who’s they?” 

“Right, I never- shit.” Clover laughed humorlessly and straightened up. “They as in the Council. Atlas is governed by a ruling council, where each member oversees a certain part of life: agriculture, arts, defense, education, etc. Though, in times of war, the ruling power passes to the current Head of Defense.” 

A shadow passed over Clover’s face, so fast Qrow nearly missed it, but then he gave his head a small shake, and it was gone. 

“What makes them so sure Robyn is the culprit?”

“Nothing. Cold blooded murder has never been her thing, and certainly not so far into Atlas territory. Her weapon doesn’t inflict those kinds of wounds. There was no motivation for her to do something like this.” He sighed. “But, they need someone to blame, and they need to do something, before the Court takes matters into their own hands and starts the war anyway.” 

“Someone was trying to start this,” Qrow said. 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know.” Clover frowned down at the table. His finger started tapping against the top, a quiet, rhythmic thunk against the wood that was the only sound between them for several long moments. “Very few would gain anything from a war, and while Mantle has been allowing Robyn and her band of thieves to stir up trouble, they have to know they stand no chance of winning if it comes to all-out-war.” 

“Who does?” Qrow asked.

“Hm?” 

“Who would gain something?” 

Clover pressed his lips into a thin line and said, “Let me think.” 

“You’re avoiding the question,” Qrow accused. 

“I- yeah.” His shoulders slumped as he lifted his gaze up to Qrow’s. He almost looked guilty- almost. Which, Qrow supposed, was a sort of improvement. “You’re smart, Qrow. You catch on fast.” 

“Don’t try to flatter me.” 

“It’s true.” Qrow levelled an unimpressed stare at him, and after a moment, he sighed and gave in. “Okay. Many of Atlas’s weapons are powered by Dust, which is produced by one family in the Court. They stand to gain from a war, obviously, but I’m not so certain he would stoop that low.” 

“Really?” Qrow raised an eyebrow. “He an upstanding guy or something?” 

“Hardly,” Clover scoffed. “But his reputation is already on this ice as is, and he is, frankly, a terrible liar, and this would be pushing the limits of what he could talk his way out of.” 

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me why his reputation is so shit?” Qrow leaned his chin on one hand, as if he were a teenager again, gossiping with the rest of the kids in the tribe late at night, while the adults celebrated after another successful raid. 

Much to his surprise, Clover grinned and leaned forward, playing along and lowering his voice to whisper, “Only because you asked so nicely.” 

Qrow rolled his eyes, shoving Clover’s face away. Clover laughed as he leaned back, but his face quickly turned serious. 

“But, if you really want to know. The Schnee family had three children, though only two still remain in this realm. Their middle child fled the faerie realm some years ago, long after Ironwood forbade travel between realms. The patriarch of their family only saved their reputation by disowning her.” Clover frowned. “Though, I doubt he lost any sleep over it.” 

Schnee. Weiss Schnee. The young woman traveling Remnant with his fucking nieces was a fae. He doubted she meant them any harm, the few times he’d met her, she’d seemed to genuinely like them, but the fae were a tricky bunch.

He realized Clover was looking at him with raised eyebrows, and he tried to wipe the shock off his face. 

“Why’d she leave?” he asked. 

“No idea. She didn’t exactly go around advertising her plan, and the Schnee family has always been a private bunch.” Clover stood and stepped over the counter, leaving Qrow alone with his thoughts for the moment. Weiss, a fae, and he’d never even guessed. Gods. He jumped as Clover set a mug down on the table in front of him, this one filled with steaming tea. “Drink.” 

“Why?” he asked suspiciously. “What did you do to it?” 

“It’s not going to trap you here forever.” Clover crossed his arms and turned away. “Just do it, okay?” 

“Fine,” he grumbled. “If I grow cat ears, I’m biting you.” 

“You won’t grow cat ears.” 

“I’m holding you to that.” 

Qrow, thankfully, did not grow cat ears, or anything else out of the ordinary that day. He helped Clover in his garden, talking all day about everything and nothing in particular- the weather, different animals he had seen in the woods, what mandrakes ate (which he made sure to tuck away in his pockets for the little guy in his room), why Clover refused to wear sleeves (the answer: he hated how the fabric felt on his arms). They deftly avoided any talk of war, or their deal, or the murder, and Qrow found it was almost nice, if he let himself forget about all that. Clover had a goofy side, and his laugh was almost as warm as the sun on Qrow’s back as they worked, but every time Qrow let himself get comfortable, he remembered the icy coldness under Clover’s warmth, the fear he’d seen in May’s eyes, and he forced himself to pull back, to protect himself with his prickly exterior. 

When evening rolled around and they had finished up, Qrow finally forced himself to break that fragile peace and ask, “So, I’m guessing I have to do this sooner rather than later?” 

Qrow was grateful Clover didn’t pretend to play dumb. He just sighed and nodded, and that was that. 

“Tomorrow,” he said. “Tomorrow, I’ll finish telling you what you need to know, and then, I’ll take you to find the weapon.” 

“Okay,” Qrow agreed. “I’m going to stay up for a while.” 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah.” He waved Clover off and gestured towards the porch. “I just need to think for a bit, the fresh air helps.” 

Clover studied him with a creased brow, but after a moment he nodded and gave him a small smile. “Okay. Good night, Qrow.” 

Qrow felt a little bad as he smiled back- but only a little. He sat down on the steps of the porch and listened to Clover moving about inside as the sun sank below the horizon and the wisps started to blink to life. The moon rose, and the sounds of Clover moving about inside quieted, and Qrow sat on the steps, staring up at the unfamiliar stars. Waiting. 

He was about to give up and go inside when he felt something tugging at the pocket of his jacket. He looked down, not quite sure what to expect, and the mandrake stared innocently up at him from inside his pocket, munching on some of the roots he had slipped in there. 

“Hey there little guy,” he murmured. “Sorry, I forgot all about you. You musta been hungry, huh?” 

It chirped and disappeared into his pocket, accompanied by the crunching of its food. He laughed softly- the stupid thing really was adorable, though he supposed he’d have to drop it off in the woods before he left. He didn’t want it to end up hurt just because he got attached to its stupid little face, and stupid little hands, and stupid little noises. 

He looked up and nearly whacked his head on May’s forehead. 

“What the fuck?” he hissed. 

“It’s so cute,” she whispered. “What’s its name?” 

“I didn’t give it one!” He scooted back and crossed his arms. “Seriously, what the fuck?” 

“I thought you were expecting me? Did you forget?” 

“No I didn’t- never mind. I’m not talking here.” 

“Suit yourself.” May stood and offered her hand out to Qrow. “I know a good place not too far from here.” 

“Alright.” He reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling himself to his feet and gesturing for her to lead the way. 

She led him into the forest, along the path Clover had taken to Elm’s, and then veering off to the left. They hopped down a small, sheer outcropping of rocks, landing on the pebbled bank of a river- the same river Clover and Qrow had crossed using the stepping stones, and the one he had met May by, he assumed.   
She turned to face him, ankle deep in the water, and he watched as those deep blue scales popped up along her arms. With a grin, she held one arm out and turned it, letting the scales catch the moonlight. 

“Pretty neat, huh? I get ‘em every time I touch running water.” She dropped her arm, placing both hands on her hips. “You’re not a fae, are you?” 

“What? Of course I am.” 

“Uh uh, no bullshitting me. Mr. Straight-Laced, By-The-Book back there broke the biggest rule in the book, didn’t he?” May giggled to herself, and muttered, “Well, I guess he’s not as straight as we thought.” 

“I can’t lie.” 

“Qrow, no fae would ever say ‘I can’t lie.’ You’re shit at this.” She waved a hand in the air. “But it explains why you’re so confused. He probably told you jack and shit, am I right?” 

“For the most part, yes.” 

May shook her head. 

“Well, buckle up. And remember, you promised not to tell anyone about me.” 

“I remember.” 

“Okay. Well, for context, I used to be a part of the Atlas Court.” She grinned. “Thankfully, I got out. Met Robyn, joined the fight for justice, and now I’m here to help you!” 

“You’re-” 

“Anyways,” she continued. “The Atlas Court is ruled by a governing Council. Your man works under Ironwood, the Head of Defense, and was one of his most trusted soldiers in the war. I wasn’t old enough to fight, when it happened, but here in Atlas, the Ace Ops are revered as heroes, warriors without equal, but in Mantle? They’re boogeymen, what keeps them from fighting back.” 

“Slow down.” Qrow took a deep breath and tried to sort through what May was telling him, but all her words flew right over his head. “The war. Assume I know, and I quote, jack and shit.” 

“Right. So. Dust. You know it?” 

“Powers weapons?” 

“Yep. And a lot of other stuff.” She kicked at the water absently, her eyes fixed somewhere beyond Qrow. “Mantle is not very rich in resources like fertile soil, jewels, all that shit. But Dust? Dust it has. Atlas used Mantle and its inhabitants to mine Dust, and in return, it gave them the resources it needed. Sounds good in theory, but in practice, Mantle was barely scraping by. Atlas was slowly killing it. When they demanded more, Atlas responded with force.

“It was during the war I ran away, and Robyn and her friends found me. They accepted me when nobody else would. I found a home in Mantle, and I watched my former Court tear it to pieces. And when Mantle had enough, when they fought back and pushed Atlas out, they responded by sending the Ace Ops to kidnap their Queen.” 

May balled her hands into fists at her side, the water swirling around her feet in an angry whirlpool. Qrow started to reach out, to offer her some sort of comfort, before dropping his hand awkwardly. He wasn’t sure what he could say, or if it would even be appreciated. 

“So. He helped kidnap the Queen?” Qrow asked. “Kidnapping seems to be a thing with him.” 

“What?” May’s eyes focused on him with a sudden intensity. 

“That’s why I’m here. I owe him, and he wants me to kidnap Robyn.” 

The water stilled to an eerie calm, and Qrow took a reflexive step back. She let out a shaky breath, the silence stretching between them for an agonizing moment. 

“His exact words? Kidnap Robyn?” 

“Yeah.” 

She grinned. 

“You really wanna do that?” 

“Not really.” 

“Then do I have a plan for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thaaaat was a doozy, anyways, feel free to stop by my tumblr fionathymes if you want shitposting, or if you just wanna yell in my inbox, ily and have a good week! sorry for any typos, I gave this exactly one (1) look over before posing it
> 
> the pain train is officially about to leave the station


	6. Swords! I Just Think They're Neat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ghksdj kind of a filler chapter, sorry

Qrow resisted the urge to reach into his pocket and touch the charm May had given him, but the mandrake, who she had dubbed Banshee (because of how loud the damn thing screams, she said), was curled up sleeping on top of it. And, of course, if Clover discovered it, their whole plan would go up in smoke. At least Clover didn’t seem suspicious as he handed Qrow a wooden shovel with a smile and set off into the woods with him in tow. 

“We’re gonna have to dig this thing up?” Qrow asked. 

“You think we’d just leave it lying around?”

“Won’t burying iron damage it?”

Clover laughed, but it didn’t have a mocking edge to it. He shook his head and said, “No, not this one. It’s enchanted, to keep it sharp and free of wear. You can thank its maker for that.” 

“You know who made it?” 

“Mhm. After he made it, he was supposed to be charged with treason, but he died in an . . . unrelated accident before that could happen.” 

“Wait, if he was fae, how did he even make an iron weapon?” Qrow asked. 

“Good question!” Clover said. 

Qrow waited for a minute, and then another, expecting more to it, but Clover didn’t seem to have any more to say as they continued through the forest. He hesitated, but after a moment, he asked, “So, do you know, or…?” 

“No. Watts was a brilliant engineer, but he was fiercely protective of his work. His research was never recovered after his death,” Clover explained. 

“So you just buried this weapon?” Qrow asked. 

“Pretty much. It wasn’t my decision.” Clover frowned. “Personally, I think Winter is more than capable of destroying it, but-” 

He shook his head and fell silent. Qrow considered pressing him, but he could see the tension in his shoulders, and he didn’t think that would be such a good idea. He could guess the answer well enough. 

They were saving it for a situation just like this. 

The rest of their walk passed in silence. The forest grew denser, the darkness heavier, and while Qrow could see just fine, something about that darkness seemed to press in. It was ridiculous, it wasn’t alive, Qrow was a fucking vampire, but it seemed almost malicious. 

Clover finally stopped in a small clearing. A crumbling stone building stood in the middle, parts of it charred black with ash, large pieces of stone scattered around it, as if an explosion had torn it apart. A slight breeze ruffled the grass, long enough to brush against Qrow’s shins.

Clover closed his eyes and took a few steps into the clearing, seeming to follow some invisible path. He stopped and turned to face Qrow about halfway between the trees and the ruined building. After a moment of hesitation, Qrow followed. 

“Here?” he asked. 

“Yep.” Clover drove his shovel down into the dirt. “We should get started, we've got a long way to dig.” 

“Alright. And start talking, I don’t want to go into this blind, and your mouth has nothing better to do.” 

Clover looked up as if he were about to say something, but he just laughed and turned his attention back to his shovel. 

Several hours and six feet later, Qrow’s shovel finally thunked against something solid. The impact sent a wave of pain up his arms and he dropped the shovel with a hiss. Clover crouched by the side of the hole, reaching down and running his fingers over the exposed wood. The tips of his fingers sparked green, and runes carved into the wood lit up that same bright green. 

“I’ll take it from here,” Clover said. Qrow stepped back as the fae straightened up and held his hands out over the hole they had dug. The ground under his feet shuddered, and a moment later, a swell of roots broke out of the dirt, and with it, the chest they had spent the last several hours digging up. 

“You could have done that this whole time?” Qrow demanded. 

“No,” Clover huffed. He gestured to the mess of dirt and plants. “I needed to get to it to break the wards protecting it so I could do this.” 

“Ugh. Whatever.” He kicked his shovel away and stepped over to peer down at the chest. “So, do we just open it?” 

“You just open it,” Clover corrected. He took several steps back and gave Qrow a thumbs up and a dorky smile that made it hard for Qrow to remember all that May had told him. This was one of the fae that had helped, in May’s words, tear Mantle to pieces. 

Qrow shook his head to clear his thoughts and bent down to fumble with the latch. The hinges squealed as he opened the lid, revealing the sword nestled in folds of dark red cloth. It didn’t look particularly special; it was dull, with no fancy runes or sigils carved into the blade. There were no jewels on the hilt or pommel, just a simple metal hilt wrapped in leather. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clover flinch as the weak sunlight hit it, and a small part of him wondered what would happen if he just grabbed it and ran. 

It wouldn’t work. Sword or not, Qrow had seen the magic- powerful magic- Clover had called upon without breaking a sweat. And magic or not, some stupid part of him didn’t want to turn a weapon against him. 

Slowly, he reached in and pulled the sword out of the chest, keeping it pointed away from Clover, and tested its weight. It was lighter than what he was used to, but its balance was perfect, and it cut through the air with minimal resistance. 

“It’s . . . well made,” Qrow said. 

“It is,” Clover agreed. “Just don’t swing it this direction, okay?” 

He stepped back with a nervous smile and gestured back towards the woods. Qrow glanced at the chest, but after a moment he shrugged and followed Clover, leaving the chest sitting open by the hole. 

The walk back through the forest was silent, but Qrow found himself relaxing the farther away from that clearing they walked. By the time they reached Clover’s house, that dark, looming presence had faded, and even Clover seemed to be more relaxed, despite the iron sword in Qrow’s hands. He left the sword leaning against the wall outside, next to his shoes, and followed Clover inside. 

“I need to tell you something,” he said suddenly. Qrow glanced over at him, but his back was turned as he fiddled with something on the counter. “Well, several things, actually.” 

“Okay.” Was he about to tell him what May had told him? Qrow hoped that Clover would come clean and tell him, because he was about to see Mantle for himself, and all the suffering Clover, and Atlas, had apparently inflicted upon it. 

“You’re not actually immune to the sunlight here.” When Clover turned around, he had a small bundle of herbs in his hands. He offered it to Qrow, his eyes everywhere but Qrow’s face. “I didn’t want you to have to hide inside, so I’ve been giving you these, to protect you from the sun. In the tea.” 

Qrow stared at the herbs Clover held out, and, per usual, his mouth was miles ahead of his brain as he said, “So that’s why you were so insistent I drink it.” 

“Yeah.” Clover laughed nervously. “You need one every two days. I gave the first one to you when you were still out, the first night. They’re not harmful! They won’t trap you here, or steal your wits, or anything like that.” 

“Okay.” Qrow reached out and took them, nodding at Clover to continue. “You said you had several things to tell me?” 

“I-” Clover stopped, shook his head, and restarted. “Be careful, Qrow. I thought you would have more time, that this wouldn’t be necessary. At all. But here we are.” 

“Clover.” 

“I want you to come back, okay? I want you to come back safe. So, don’t be an idiot.” 

“When have I ever been an idiot?” Qrow teased, trying to ease the sudden tension in Clover’s shoulders. “There’s a reason I’ve survived as long as I have, Shamrock. I’ll be fine.” 

Clover’s eyebrows flew up, but after a moment, he laughed. A light blush dusted his cheeks, but he turned and opened up a cabinet with a cough before Qrow could say anything about it. “I also have this for you.” 

“And that is?” Qrow asked, eyeing the metal flask Clover held out to him warily. 

“Vine brought it by while you were sleeping,” Clover explained. “If you get, you know, hungry.” 

“Ah.” Qrow smiled as he reached out to take it from him. “You’re oddly thoughtful.” 

“What, like fae can’t be thoughtful?” Clover huffed. He crossed his arms and glared at Qrow, but the effect was ruined by the small smile playing across his lips. 

“I wouldn’t know, you’re the first one I’ve met.” 

“Not all the stories are completely true, you know.” 

“Right, and here I thought you didn’t know much about my world.” Qrow turned serious as he hooked the flask to his belt. “I should probably go. It’s better to do this sooner, rather than later.” 

Clover’s smile faded instantly. 

“Right,” he agreed. “Are you sure? We can wait until tomorrow. Sunset is in a few hours.” 

“I can see in the dark. And I’d really like to get this over with.” 

Clover nodded and said, “I’ll take you to the border, then.” 

Qrow didn’t miss the sadness that flashed over his face, but he almost wished he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's all starting to come together... and i'm crying. we're almost to the end... I'm estimating anther four chapters? But it all depends on how the cards fall.


	7. No Talk Fiona She Angy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a plan is hatched...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this one is late yall, I was at my grandparents' with no laptop and no internet, so I was down a couple days to write, but hopefully finally getting started on the action makes up for that! thank you for sticking with me this far! 
> 
> I apologize for any typos i missed!

It wasn’t hard to tell when they were nearing the border between Atlas and Mantle- the trees thinned out, the ground grew rocker, the plant life less vibrant. The silence stretched between them as they walked, but Qrow couldn’t bring himself to break it. When Clover found out Qrow planned to go behind his back, this friendship that had been building between them would shatter. 

He shouldn’t feel guilty about that, but it wasn’t like feelings were ever logical. So Qrow wrestled with his guilt the whole walk, leaving Clover to whatever he was thinking so intently about.

“We’re here,” Clover said.

The border didn’t look particularly special- no massive landmark divided the two Courts, no visible wall of magic marked the border, just the faint hum of magic if Qrow really looked for it. He glanced over at Clover and gave him a reassuring smile that belied the nerves twisting in his stomach. 

“Well. If all goes well, I’ll see you in a few days,” Qrow said. 

“It will,” Clover insisted. “You’ll be back before you know it. And then, you can go home, if you’d like.” 

Clover’s voice was light, even, but Qrow could see the slight pinch of his brows and the small downturn of his smile. Why this fae seemed so attached to him mystified Qrow; was it just a fascination with something he didn’t see much, or did he actually, for some reason, care about Qrow? It didn’t matter, though, because soon enough, this would end like everything else in Qrow’s life had, and he would hate him. 

“Try not to worry your pretty little head about me too much,” Qrow teased. 

“You think I’m pretty?” 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he scoffed. 

Clover frowned in confusion as Qrow turned and headed over the border. He was a few steps past that invisible barrier before Clover got it, calling after him with an indignant, “Hey!” Qrow laughed and waved over his shoulder, but he didn’t let himself turn around to look at the fae and risk losing his resolve. 

He slid down a rocky slope, well out of sight of the border, and dug into his pocket. Banshee poked their head out of his pocket and grumbled under their breath, but they let him pull the charm May had given him out from under them. The mandrake didn’t seem too concerned about the change of scenery- and they were strangely expressive, despite being a sentient vegetable- but he supposed his pocket must be comfy enough to override any anxiety. 

He crushed the charm in his hand, letting the river water hidden inside fall onto the rocky soil, and settled in to wait for May. The sun slowly sank below the horizon while Banshee munched on one of the snacks he had slipped into his pocket for them. He began to fidget as he waited, kicking loose stones around and pacing in a small circle, his thoughts running a constant loop of worst case scenarios. 

He heard the faintest crunch of a shoe over rocks and spun around, muscles tensed and ready for a fight, but May’s wide grin eased some of the apprehension in his gut. The faerie behind her- a slight young woman with short, curly white ears- wasn’t so amicable. She looked Qrow up and down with suspicion she didn’t even bother hiding, the sheep ears poking out of her hair pinned flat against the side of her head. 

That was probably fair. 

“Hello,” he said, because there really wasn’t much else he could say in this situation that would help. Hi, I know I’m technically here to kidnap your friend, but don’t worry, May said she has a plan! Yeah, that would go over well. 

“Glad you’re finally here!” May said, throwing an arm over his shoulder, and then leaping away with a startled yelp. “What. Is. That?” 

“A sword,” he answered, turning a little to show her the weapon he and Clover had dug up. “Iron. So, don’t touch it.” 

“Where did you even get that?” May asked. 

“Clover and I dug it out of the ground.” 

The other faerie stepped closer and squinted at the blade, her mouth tugging downwards in a frown. 

“Watts,” she declared after a moment. Clover had mentioned that name- the creator of the blade, the one who’d died in a mysterious accident just before being charged with treason. 

“Fuck,” May breathed. “They said they destroyed it.” 

“They said they dealt with the problem,” she corrected. “Which means they buried it. Along with most of the other shit he made, probably.” 

“Well, it could come in handy.” May clapped her hands together and spun on her heel, gesturing for Qrow to follow her. “Ready to meet the team?” 

“Lead the way,” he said. 

May led him away from the border, with the other faerie a few paces behind them. Qrow could feel her stare drilling into his back the whole way, but he fixed his eyes straight ahead, studying the scenery around him as they walked. Sometimes he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned his head, he only caught a glimpse of their audience as they ducked back out of sight. 

There were fewer trees in Mantle, and the ground was rockier, the plant life more rugged, but it was still beautiful, in its own way. The last rays of the setting sun bathed everything in a soft golden glow, a soft breeze rustling the leaves of the trees and carrying the sound of laughter. They crested a hill overlooking a small town, and the children playing on the side of the hill froze, looking up at Qrow with a mixture of fear and curiosity. For most of them, the fear won and they turned tail and ran, disappearing among the dusty, run down houses. 

The one who had stayed dusted off her dress and bounced to her feet, zooming over to them at a, quite frankly, terrifying speed. She grinned, her green eyes bright with curiosity, and waved at Qrow. Hesitantly, he raised a hand of his own and waved back. 

“Hello!” she said. “I’m Penny! I’ve never seen you before.” 

“Hello, Penny,” he said. “I’m Qrow. Hey, be careful!” 

She stepped closer, leaning close enough to the sword that it must have hurt, but she just waved him off with a smile. “It’s okay! I’m not real.” 

“Penny,” the sheep-eared fae admonished. Her voice turned gentle as she stepped forward and tugged her away from the sword. “We’ve talked about this. You’re just as real as me and May.” 

“No ifs, ands, or buts about it,” May added. “Anyways, we’d love to stay and chat, Penny, but Qrow over here has a date with our fearless leader, and we don’t wanna keep her waiting.” 

“I thought Robyn was a lesbian?” Penny asked. “Did you and Robyn break up, Fiona?”

“Not that kind of date, Penny,” Fiona said, shooting a glare at May, who was trying, and failing, to hold her snickers back. 

“Oh! Apologies.” Penny smiled and stepped back. “I will leave you to it.” 

“I’m telling Robyn,” Fiona muttered as Penny spun on her heel and ran off, following the footsteps of the children that had fled earlier. 

“What?” May asked innocently. 

“Oh fuck off. I love Penny, but you know she’s very literal.” Fiona smiled and elbowed May in the side, before the mirth dropped from her face as if she’d suddenly remembered Qrow was standing right there. “Right. We should go.” 

Fiona spun on her heel and started off again. May gave him a small shrug and followed, leaving Qrow to trail after them. As they walked through the town, a few of the passerby shot Qrow a curious look, but most kept their eyes on the ground in front of them, their shoulders slumped, heavy dark circles under their eyes. 

The difference between here and Atlas almost gave Qrow whiplash. 

Was Atlas really responsible for Mantle’s state? Clover was so nice, so friendly, Qrow couldn’t make himself see Clover as the terrifying figure May had said Mantle saw him as. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, following the two fae up the steps of a small house. May didn’t even bother knocking; she shoved the door open and announced to the whole building, “We’re back!” 

The two fae bent over a table looked up as they entered, faces drawn, but they relaxed when they saw May and Fiona. The shorter of the two- though that wasn’t saying much, the taller, at her full height, stood nearly two inches above Qrow- stepped around the table and studied him with a frown. 

“You must be Qrow,” she said as she stuck her hand out. “Call me Robyn.” 

“That’s me,” he said, reaching up to shake her hand. He went to pull away, but she didn’t let go, her lilac eyes- so much like Yang’s, with much of the same fire- boring into his. “Um.” 

“So, Qrow.” A soft purple light spread from her arm to his, bathing the room in its glow. “You’re not planning on selling us out, are you?” 

“No?” The light turned green, and his eyebrows flew up. “Huh. I thought fae couldn’t lie.” 

“We can twist the truth,” Robyn said. She dropped Qrow’s hand and turned to May. “And you’re not fae, you can lie just fine.” 

“Debatable,” May said. Qrow glanced over his shoulder to send her a glare, but she just grinned. The woman was damn near unshakeable. 

“Looks like you’re in,” Fiona grumbled. 

“May said you had a plan,” Qrow said. “Care to clue me in?” 

“We’re rescuing Fria,” the fourth fae said simply. 

“Fria?” 

“The Queen,” Robyn explained. “You’re going to march me into Atlas and let them throw me in jail. We’ll take it from there.” 

Qrow blinked. 

“I thought we were trying to avoid that,” he said after several long moments of silence. 

“Don’t stress,” May said. “Your bargain will be fulfilled, and we’ll get our Queen back, so we can kick Atlas’ butt into next century. Win-win for all of us.” 

“Fine, fine!” He threw his hands up in the air. “At least I’ll have some sort of plausible deniability.” 

“That’s the spirit!” May cheered. 

“Is she really important enough to you to risk this?” he asked, turning his gaze on Robyn. 

“Of course,” she said. “That’s why Atlas took her. Without her, none of us have any reasonable claims to authority. We can make trouble all we want, but Atlas lives and breathes rules and tradition. They won’t listen.” 

“With Fria back, they’ll have to listen,” Fiona added. 

“And if they don’t, well.” The fourth fae mimed an explosion with her hands. 

“Mantle needs hope,” Robyn said. “And that’s what Fria represents. Atlas knew that.” 

“Right. Well. I hope your plan works.” 

Qrow couldn’t shake the uneasiness hanging over him like a thundercloud, but they seemed confident that their plan would work. It didn’t matter, because soon, he would be free of this and it wouldn’t be his problem anymore. 

Not. His. Problem. He couldn’t go around getting involved in every little thing that tugged at his heart. He was one vampire- he couldn’t fight an army of fae over a feud he barely understood. Even if he did have an iron sword. 

Not his problem, he repeated to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all the Americans out there, I hope you had a safe weekend, and to everyone, I hope your week ahead is good! 
> 
> I've created a (side)blog for all my writing stuff separate from my personal blog, @ shepherdofmantle on tumblr, so feel free to stop by if you'd like. 
> 
> I'll see you all next week! :3


	8. Top Ten Anime Betrayals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: brief, graphic description of dead bodies

Banshee took to Fiona like a duck to water, toddling across the table and climbing up her arm to curl up on her shoulder while they went over the best places to sneak into Atlas unnoticed. Most of the talk of wards and meridians went way over his head, so he just glared at Banshee, the little traitor, and let May and Joanna argue to their hearts’ content. 

Robyn and Fiona didn’t seem too concerned by the jabs flying back and forth over the table, but, tearing his glare away from Banshee, he saw the laughter in May’s eyes and the small, fond smile on Joanna’s face. 

“Fine,” Joanna said finally. “I’ll trust you. But we’re still bringing the dust.” 

“Of course,” May agreed. “You’re always so hot when you use it.” 

“I’m not dignifying that with a response.” 

“That was a response.” 

“They’re both idiots,” Fiona groaned as the two began to shoot back and forth again, and Robyn reached over and patted her shoulder. 

“I’m counting on you idiots,” she said. “And there’s nobody else I would trust more.” 

“Sap,” Fiona sniffed, but she reached up and took Robyn’s hand with a small smile. 

Qrow turned his eyes away, focusing on the table in front of him. He felt like an intruder, out of place, the easy camaraderie and laughter of the group foreign and unfamiliar. A chair scraped over the floor, and a moment later Robyn nudged him with her elbow. 

“I know this isn’t the most ideal situation for you,” she said. “But we’ll get you home. He has to honor the deal.” 

“I know.” He tried to smile at her, but it felt flat, strained. She studied him for a moment before her face softened, just a smidge. 

“You feel bad,” she said. 

“Maybe.” 

“Listen, Qrow. Yeah, his feelings will probably be hurt. Yeah, he has a disgustingly pitiful sad face. But, in the long run, we’re saving lives. He’ll get over his hurt feelings. Those who would die in a war between the Courts? They can’t get over death.” 

“You’re right,” Qrow sighed. “But . . .” 

“It doesn’t make it any easier?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I wish I could tell you it gets better with time,” Robyn said. “They made their choice. They chose their side. You have to follow your heart and do the right thing, even if it leads you away from them.” 

“Speaking from experience?” he asked. 

Robyn scoffed and kicked at the leg of his chair. “You don’t know me well enough to get that story yet.” 

“Fine, fine,” he said with a small laugh, holding up his hands. “Keep your secrets.” 

Robyn laughed, but a small trace of sadness lingered in the tightness around her eyes and the hollow echo of her laugh. 

“Do you have the wayfinder?” Fiona asked.

“Check.” Robyn held up the charm, nearly an exact replica of the one May had given Qrow, before tucking it into a pocket and out of sight. “Dust? My crossbow?” 

“Check and check,” Fiona replied. Qrow didn’t actually see either of those on her, anywhere, but none of the others mentioned it, so Qrow kept his mouth shut. 

“You remember how to untie these?” May asked, holding up the rope they’d scrounged out of the dusty attic of their house. 

“Yes,” Robyn said. “We practiced for two hours last night, remember?” 

“Hey, a little caution here doesn’t hurt anybody.” 

“I know, I know!” 

Qrow stepped off to the side to let May tie the ropes around Robyn’s wrists, taking one of the herbs Clover had given him to fend off the effects of sunlight, and washing it down with a deep drink from the flask of blood. He coughed as it went down- the sheer magic in the blood was enough to make him do a double take. 

Definitely fae. 

“Qrow!” Robyn called. “You ready?” 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he muttered. He rejoined them near the border between Mantle and Atlas, hooking the flask back to his belt. Maybe he’d been here too long, but even he could sense the small weakness in the barrier between the two Courts. 

“Remember, don’t walk outside that space between those two rocks,” May reminded him. “Or you’ll have the whole Atlas Guard on your ass in minutes.” 

The space between the two rocks, set up as discrete markers, was narrower than Qrow’s shoulders. Robyn turned to the side and shimmied through, so Qrow followed her lead, hardly daring to breathe until he was safely on the other side. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Robyn promised, lifting her bound hands in an awkward wave. 

“Before you know it,” Fiona said. 

“Let’s go,” she said. She turned and gave Qrow a nod, and together they set off into the forest.

It was unnervingly quiet as they walked, but Robyn made no move to break the silence, and Qrow figured he couldn’t complain about their relatively easy journey so far- until a shiver traveled up his spine, not from the strange stillness but from unseen eyes watching their progress. 

“Who’s there?” Qrow called, dropping his hand to his sword. Next to him, Robyn tensed, her eyes flicking from shadow to shadow, but even Qrow couldn’t see whoever, or whatever, was stalking them from within the trees. 

A crazed laugh echoed out of the trees, and Qrow spun around, putting himself between Robyn and the man that melted out of the shadows. He raised the sword, but the man didn’t even flinch, continuing his advance, a long scorpion tail swinging languidly back and forth behind him. Another terrible giggle spilled from his lips as he spotted Robyn, and Qrow’s skin crawled at the hunger in those bright yellow eyes. 

“Look what the bird dragged in,” he cooed. 

“Listen, buddy,” Qrow started, but the man cut him off with another round of laughter. 

“That’s it,” Robyn snarled. She stepped up next to Qrow, shaking away the rope they’d used to “bind” her hands and drawing her knife. 

“Does poor little Clover know of your betrayal?” the man taunted. He grinned, flashing razor sharp fangs. “He will.” 

“Vampire!” Qrow warned. 

A moment later, he and Robyn had to scatter as he lunged forward impossibly fast. Vampires were fast, but even Qrow struggled to raise the sword in time to block a strike from the end of his tail. His stinger glanced off the metal as he lunged for Robyn, swiping at her with sharp nails. She leaped back and dodged just out of reach of his claws, but when Qrow tried to take advantage of his distraction and pivoted on one heel to swing the sword towards his head, he ducked under it with a small giggle. 

He rolled forward, kicking out at Qrow with his feet and striking at Robyn with his stinger. His foot caught Qrow’s hands and sent the sword flying out of his hands. It tumbled out of reach, so Qrow stepped forward, taking advantage of the vampire’s momentary distraction with Robyn to land a punch right to his temple. 

Pain sparked across his knuckles, and he shook his hand out as the vampire rolled across the ground and popped back up to his feet. He clapped his hands together, that terrible grin splitting his face. Normally, Qrow would have kept up his attack, but that wicked stinger curled behind the vampire, ready to sting, and so Qrow hung back, airing on the side of caution. 

It was the wrong decision. 

“As much as I’d love to stay and chat,” he said, “Her Majesty requires my services, and I’m already running a bit late. You’re so dreadfully slow.” 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Robyn demanded. 

He lunged for the sword, with Robyn and Qrow a second behind, scrambling to stop him before he got a hand on it. Qrow got a hand on his arm, but his stinger swung around behind him and he had to let go or be impaled in the eye. Robyn flinched back as the vampire brandished the sword at her. She trembled with barely restrained rage, but grudgingly backed up, well out of range of the sword. 

“We’ve been looking for this for so long,” he sang. “Oh, if Watts could see the state of his work now. Don’t worry, it’s in good hands now.” 

He pulled the sword close, as if it were a child, and stroked a hand down the dull metal, but his eyes never left Qrow and Robyn, tensed and ready to move at a moment’s notice. Robyn darted to one side, and he had the sense to recognize it for what it was as the vampire spun to fend her off. 

Qrow used that opening she’d given him and darted forward, crashing into the other vampire in a flurry of claws and snapping teeth. He didn’t bother with civility, drawing on everything he’d learned in the tribe- he  _ had _ to, to keep this vampire from killing him. With a frustrated shriek, the vampire drew his legs up to his chest and kicked out, launching Qrow away from him and into the trunk of a tree. 

“Qrow!” Robyn skidded onto her knees next to him, dropping a hand onto his shoulder as he sat up with a small groan. He’d hit the tree hard, but nothing had broken, and he was still conscious. Nothing to worry about. 

“I’m fine.” He waved her off and pushed himself to his feet. “We need to find him.” 

The vampire had disappeared, along with the sword. 

“Who was that?” Robyn asked. 

“I was gonna ask you.” Qrow frowned. “Clover did mention knowing another vampire.” 

“He knows that asshole?” 

“Well, in passing, he said.” He gave a small shake of his head. “I can’t remember his name.” 

“Well, we don’t need his name,” Robyn muttered. “If only I had my crossbow, I’d shoot that stupid tail right off his ass.” 

Qrow flexed his fingers, studying the blood drying under his nails with a thoughtful hum. He stepped over to the circle of flattened underbrush, and Robyn followed along behind. She stayed quiet as Qrow bent down, eyes closed in concentration until- 

“Got him,” he said. 

He stood back up, following the faint trail of blood through the forest. When he lost sight of it, he stopped and inhaled deeply until he found the scent of blood again, following that until he could find the trail again. Every so often, he and Robyn ducked behind a tree or into a thicket when a faerie got too close, but for the most part, their journey went uninterrupted. 

“Do you have any idea why he would even be here?” Qrow asked. 

“Same as you, maybe?” Robyn suggested with a shrug. “Someone rescued him to score a favor?” 

“Maybe.” Qrow frowned as he replayed the vampire’s words over again. “He knew Watts, the fae who made that sword.” 

“Maybe he brought him here. It wasn’t uncommon, before Ironwood banned any travel to the mortal realms. It wasn’t long after Watts died that Ironwood put the ban in place.” 

“Her Majesty?” 

“Yeah, I have no idea about that one,” Robyn said. “You think he’s the one that’s trying to start this war?” 

“It’s possible. Whatever attacked that faerie used claws and teeth.” 

“He definitely had those.” 

They walked in grim silence for a while, the tension in the air punctuated with the crunch of their feet over dead leaves, until the smell of blood had Qrow freezing in his tracks. Robyn walked right into his back with a small grunt, nearly sending him crashing onto his face. 

“What is it?” she asked. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Bad?” 

“Bad.” 

Qrow quickened his pace, ignoring the branches that tugged at his clothing as if warning him to stay away. He lifted a hand to cover his nose and mouth as they drew closer to the source; the smell of blood hung thick in the air, fresh and choking and too strong. 

“Shit,” Robyn breathed as they stepped out of the trees and onto a dirt road. 

Qrow couldn’t force the words past his throat, suddenly burning with a horrible combination of thirst and nausea. The vampire- because who else would have done it?- had, for lack of a better word, torn through a small band of soldiers, leaving their bodies broken and bleeding all over the dirt road. Where the sword had struck them, their skin had blackened and cracked, as if the iron had killed every part of them it touched. Where the vampire hadn’t used the sword, he’d ripped throats clean open, clawed faces until they were nearly unrecognizable, leaving behind bodies- how many bodies? Qrow couldn’t count, there was so much blood and this was worse than anything he’d seen with the tribe, fuck, he couldn’t breathe-

“Hey!” Robyn shoved him away from the scene, turning him around to face the forest. “I know it’s bad, but I need you to stay with me, Qrow.” 

“We need to go,” he rasped. 

“No. You’re not going anywhere.” 

He spun around to face Elm’s voice, torn between fighting and fleeing, teeth bared and eyes wild. He almost relaxed, spotting Clover next to Elm, but he almost didn’t recognize him as the same person. He, Elm, and the unfamiliar, unnervingly serene fae with them all wore similar white and blue uniforms, a far cry from the casual greens and browns Qrow was used to seeing him in. Clover’s face was blank and unreadable, and he carried a fishing rod in his hands, with a wicked silver-tipped hook that made Qrow flinch. 

“You don’t think we did this?” Robyn demanded. 

“At this point, we don’t know who did,” Clover said. The ice in his voice sent a chill down Qrow’s spine, and he moved to stand between him and Robyn. 

“Well we do,” Qrow growled. 

“I’m sure,” Elm said. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Robyn snapped. 

“If that’s how you want to do this.” 

Elm pulled a hammer off her back and swung it towards Robyn and Qrow. They scattered as a massive ball of fire rocketed towards them, crashing into a tree behind them and showering them with burning wood chips. Qrow rolled to his feet, leveling a glare at Clover as he approached. 

“Qrow,” he said. 

“Don’t,” Qrow snapped. “You can’t seriously think I would do this?” 

“I have my orders, Qrow.” 

“I have my orders,” he scoffed. “What, are you gonna tell me you’re okay with what Atlas is doing to Mantle next?” 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Maybe I’d have your side of the story too, if you’d bothered to tell me.” Qrow took a step back, keeping an eye on the fight between Robyn and Elm and the stranger out of the corner of his eye- she seemed to be doing alright, at least. “I’m not stupid, Clover.” 

“I…” For a moment, Clover’s face seemed to crack. Robyn really was right- he had a disgustingly pitiful sad face. But it was gone in a blink, and the perfect little soldier was back. “I don’t enjoy having to do this, Qrow.” 

“Fuck off.” 

Qrow leaped out of the way as Clover reached towards him and roots twisted out of the ground, reaching for his feet. Clover didn’t give him a moment’s rest, between the plants that reached out to slow him down and that silver hook, burning his skin everytime it got too close. 

And so it went, Qrow never quite getting close enough to get to Clover, and Clover never quite managing to trip Qrow up enough to trap him. 

Until Robyn cried out, and Qrow glanced over before he could stop himself. Elm stood over her unconscious form, but Qrow could see the rise and fall of her chest, despite the bloody gash on the side of her head. A second later, he had to reel backwards, away from that hook. He didn’t notice the long strands of grass wrapped around his ankle until too late, and he was toppling over onto his back. 

He cursed, struggling against the roots winding around his limbs. After a moment, he turned blazing red eyes on Clover, lips pulled back in a snarl, limbs shaking with fury. Clover refused to meet his glare as he approached, and that just served to piss Qrow off more. 

“I didn’t fucking do this!” he snapped. “If you’d listen to me, you’d have a chance at catching who did this. Not Robyn, not me, but an actual cold-blooded killer.” 

“Qrow.” Clover knelt down next to him, lowering his voice so Qrow had to strain to hear him. “I believe you.” 

“Then why-”

“Listen, Qrow.” Qrow gritted his teeth and fell silent. “I believe you, but I have my orders. I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve spent with you, and you have taught me a lot. I thank you for that. Do you understand?” 

Qrow didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded. Clover smiled a little, and for that brief moment, Qrow could see the Clover he knew, not the cold, distant Clover before him. And then he reached out, pressing a finger to Qrow’s forehead, and everything went dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been WAITING for this part, i hope yall like it aaaa
> 
> catch me on tumblr at shepherdofmantle while we wait for v8 (and the v7 soundtrack when?? blease??)


	9. Wouldn't You Like to Know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for yet another late chapter, and thank you for bearing with me! it's been,, a week, and Ironwood has always been hard for me to write buut it's done! and we're getting close to the end :3 (it'll be happy, I promise)

Qrow came to in a cell, tossed haphazardly in the corner like a sack of flour, his hands bound in front of him with strange purple rope. He gave a few experimental tugs, but the rope didn’t budge. A quick glance around confirmed what he already knew- he was in a prison. 

As far as prisons went, it wasn’t the worst he’d ever been in. Orbs of light were spaced along the wall at regular intervals, casting off enough light even something without night vision would be able to see. The stone itself was light gray and free of mold or dirt, and Qrow couldn’t see or hear any rats scuttling around. 

He also couldn’t see or hear anyone else, except for Robyn, in a cell across the hall, and the faint whiff of old, dry blood. She perked up as he pushed himself upright, but she held one finger up to her lips and gestured to the side. He rose to his feet and moved over to the bars and craned his neck to peer down the hall. Sure enough, two guards stood at the end, on either side of a heavy wooden door. 

“Hey!” he called. Neither guard moved, and with the helmets pulled down over their faces, he couldn’t even see their reaction. “Hey, I’m talking to you two dipshits!” 

“If you’re not careful, they’ll knock you out again,” Robyn hissed. 

“They can try,” Qrow retorted, but he backed away from the bars, out of sight of the guards, and sat down on the cold stone floor. “How long were we out?” 

“Not sure. I only woke up a few hours ago.” 

“Any plan?”

“Working on it.” 

“Listen, I-” Qrow leaned forward, but the scrape of a deadbolt cut him off. Robyn stiffened, her mouth twisting into a grimace, as the door opened and two pairs of footsteps entered. 

“Leave us,” a male voice said. 

“Don’t say a word,” Robyn whispered. 

The door shut behind the guards as they left, while Qrow and Robyn fell silent as the newcomers approached. Qrow’s gaze fell on the one closest to him first- a tall, broad-shouldered man with neatly groomed dark hair and a beard. He held his hands tucked behind his back in a way that reminded Qrow of military men back in the mortal world, and his clothing, pristine and wrinkle-free, seemed bland enough to be a uniform. 

The woman following him mirrored his posture to the T, but her face  _ almost  _ reminded him of Weiss. She had the same blue eyes, the same white hair, the same angles to her face, but unlike Weiss, her face was cold and impassive. She and Robyn traded glares, but neither of them said a word. 

Don’t say a word, Robyn had said. 

Naturally, Qrow did the exact opposite. 

“If you actually care about saving people, listen to me,” he said. Both their gazes turned on him, the woman scornful, the man carefully blank. “Robyn didn’t do this, and neither did I, and you know it.” 

“Do we?” the woman asked, her gaze snapping back to Robyn. “You have no issue lying.” 

“Glad to know that’s what you think of me,” Robyn said dryly. 

“Is that what you want to make this about?” 

“Winter.” 

“Sir.” She pressed her lips into a thin line and turned her back on the other faerie, cutting off Qrow’s view of her. 

“Ah, so you’re Weiss’ sister,” Qrow said. She inhaled sharply, and he could see a muscle in her jaw tic, but she didn’t respond. Touchy subject, he noted. Good to know. He shifted his gaze to the man and cut him off as he opened his mouth to speak. “If you’re not here to listen to us, then why are you here?” 

“The sword. Where is it?” the man asked. 

“Hmm, I don’t know? Probably with the man who stole it and murdered a bunch of  _ your _ people,” Qrow retorted. 

“We need a description.” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“You insolent little-” Winter hissed. 

“You have a lot of nerve,” Qrow snapped. “We all know we’re innocent, and here you are, planning on throwing us to the wolves while asking us to help you find him.” 

“I’m doing what I have to,” the man replied evenly. “If the Courts find out a murderer is running around with an iron weapon, there will be chaos. Your sacrifice is not in vain.” 

“You’re taking the easy way out,” Robyn accused. “You always have. Face it, Ironwood. You’re scared.” 

“I’m trying to prevent a war, just like you!” he snapped. For a moment, his calm broke, and Qrow knew- Robyn was right. Clover had been so well-meaning, but they sure had landed themselves in a pile of shit. 

“Shove off,” Qrow said. “If you want our help, we’re doing this the right way.” 

“Sir,” Winter said. “It’s no use.” 

He sighed heavily, giving Qrow one last look. “It doesn’t have to be like this.” 

Qrow promptly flipped him off. 

He turned on his heel and left. Winter lingered a moment longer, glancing over at Robyn, but Qrow couldn’t see her expression. Robyn’s face twisted into a grimace, but Qrow watched her give a single, slow nod before Winter turned and followed Ironwood.

“So much for not saying a word,” Qrow muttered after the door opened, and the guards had taken their places again. 

“Qrow, I need you to trust me,” she said, keeping her voice low so the guards couldn’t hear. “Whatever happens next, just go with it.” 

“Your plans don’t exactly have a history of going well,” he pointed out. 

“It’s not mine.” 

He frowned, but after a moment, he shrugged. It wasn’t like he had a better idea- he could try and call Clover and cash in that favor, but he had no idea how to do that, or where, exactly, they would go once they were free. They still needed to find Fria and the murderous vampire on the loose. 

A few minutes passed, and then the door slid open again, but this time, Clover stepped into the hall. He murmured a few words to the guards, who saluted and left, leaving him alone with Robyn and Qrow. 

“Clover,” Qrow choked out, torn between yelling at him and reaching out for him. 

“Are you alright?” Clover stepped in front of his cell, brow creased as he looked him up and down. 

“Besides sitting in a jail cell? I’m fine.” 

“Well, guess who’s about to fix that!” May cried. She appeared in the space behind Clover’s shoulders, Joanna on one side, and Fiona peering around him on the other. 

“Fuck!” Qrow yelped, leaping away from the bars. “What the fuck?” 

“Told ya,” May said smugly. 

“You suck,” Fiona retorted. 

“But at least I’m a winner.” 

“Did you take bets on my reaction?” Qrow demanded. 

“That’s not important!” Clover said. 

“They did,” Joanna whispered as Clover turned to Robyn. 

“For the record,” he said, “I am doing this under threat of death.” 

“Horrible, slow, painful death,” Fiona added. 

“Good to know.” Robyn gestured her bound hands towards the cell door. “Let’s not stay here for any longer than we have to, okay?” 

“You heard her.” Fiona shoved Clover towards the cell with surprising strength for someone so short. “Get unlocking, or I start stabbing.” 

“Oh no,” Clover said flatly as he reached out and pressed his palm against the stone next to the bars. Green light, patterned after vines and flowers, sprang to life around his hand, and a moment later, the bars of Robyn’s cell slid back into the ceiling. “Whatever shall I do?” 

Joanna got to work undoing the binding around Robyn’s wrists, while Clover turned and unlocked Qrow’s cell. He held his wrists out for May to free, giving her a grateful smile as the purple ropes fell away. 

“Winter said she could keep the halls to Fria’s rooms clear until sunrise,” Clover said. “If you want to get her out, you need to hurry.” 

“You’re not coming?” Qrow asked. He pushed away the pang of disappointment in his chest- Clover had attacked him, hadn’t he? But he’d also come back for him- only to leave him again. 

“I . . .” 

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re already committing treason,” May said. “C’mon.” 

“Under threat of death.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, but we have to go,” Robyn said. “May, can you hide all of us?” 

“It would be stretching it, but I think so,” she answered. 

“Good. Then our original plan is back on track. Let’s go ladies- and Qrow.” 

“Wait,” Clover said. 

“What?” Robyn raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, her foot tapping on the floor. 

“Do you even know where she is?” After a few moments of awkward silence, Clover sighed heavily. “Fine. Just stay behind me and be quiet, alright?” 

Qrow smiled over at him, but he just scoffed and looked away, a blush heating his cheeks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> winter does care 😭 I couldn't make her completely mean ghskdjf
> 
> this isn't edited so i'm sorry for any typos/weird sentences


	10. Grand Theft Grandma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> get in losers we're stealing ourselves a grandma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this was a lil rushed, but i hope you all like it!! i Had to put some fluff in there because I think these idiots deserve it at this point lmao

Invisibility was not as handy as Qrow would have thought. 

May’s field only extended so far, and without being able to see the four others crammed into it with him, he stepped on feet and earned an elbow to the side for it at least six times. He was pretty sure Fiona stepped on him on purpose, but he couldn’t even prove it was her, much less that she’d been aiming for his feet. The field didn’t extend to sound, either, and so they had to stifle every little noise they made. 

They weren’t doing very well, it seemed, because Clover seemed about two seconds away from a heart attack. 

And yet, in a stroke of good luck, they didn’t run into any guards, except Marrow, who seemed content to just wave at Clover and continue on his way. Qrow caught him give Clover a glance over his shoulder as they passed, but whether he  _ knew, _ or he was just glazing after him, Qrow couldn’t tell. Wouldn’t that be funny, if the practically whole Atlas Court was in on whatever plot Clover and Winter had cooked up? 

Clover suddenly stopped, glancing over his shoulder at the empty space where Qrow and Robyn’s team stood. 

“I really hope you’re still following me,” he whispered. “But, there are guards outside her room. I’ll get them to open the door, but you better not get caught going on.” 

“Great plan, Shamrock,” Robyn whispered back. 

Clover glared in the direction of her voice and spun on his heel. He started off around the corner, and someone reached out and grabbed Qrow’s arm, pulling him along. Just as Clover had said, there were four guards stationed outside the simple wooden door, armed to the teeth and standing at attention. Clover flashed something at them, and the one closest to the door moved to open it. 

Clover nodded to the guard, giving the five of them enough time to hurry through the open door and into the massive room behind it. He stepped in behind them, nearly running right into Qrow’s back as the guard shut and locked it after him. May collapsed into Joanna’s arms the moment the lock clicked shut and rubbed her hands across her face. 

“Shit,” she groaned. 

“Are you alright?” Clover asked hesitantly. 

“I’ll be fine.” She waved him off and straightened up. “It’s just a lot of people, for a long walk. Don’t worry about me.” 

Robyn stepped past May and Joanna, towards the large window overlooking a garden, the curtains drawn back to let in the evening light. Iron bars blocked the window, and the woman sitting in the chair, staring out over the courtyard with a small smile, sat a good arm’s reach away from it. 

“Fria,” Fiona breathed. 

“I was wondering when you would show up,” she said. She turned her gaze on them, and Qrow almost froze in place. He couldn’t say what it was, exactly; she looked human, but there was something indescribably ancient and powerful in her bright blue eyes. Most of the fae he had met could pretend to be human, if they’d wanted but this woman? Maybe if you squinted, you could pretend, but she radiated an uncanny energy, a storm folded into a deceptively human body. She laughed, as if she could hear his thoughts, and held out her wrists. “A little help, dear?” 

The iron bangles on her wrist gleamed in the sunlight, and Qrow took a hesitant step towards her. The skin around the edges was bright red, blistered and sore, and the sight of it was enough to drive him forwards, all the way to her side. He ripped the first one off with a small grunt, tossing it as far away from the faeries as he could. The next one was a little harder, but he managed to twist it apart at the hinges and tossed it with its duplicate. 

“Gods,” Robyn muttered. “How…?” 

“I knew you would come,” Fria said. “And so I held on.” 

“Held on?” Clover asked. 

“I still have to find her.” Robyn helped Fria to her feet, and the woman turned the full force of those blue eyes on Clover. He flinched away, stepping closer to Qrow as she studied him. “You have a choice to make.” 

“Uh.” 

“That’s great and all, but, how are we getting out of here?” Qrow asked. “The way we came isn’t looking so hot.” 

“Excuse you?” May demanded. 

“Qrow?” Clover asked. Qrow bit off his retort and turned a questioning look on him. “Can you get those bars off the window?” 

“We are not jumping,” Fiona cut in. 

“Of course not!” he said. “But the tree is close enough that I should be able to get it to the window to let us down.” 

“It’s worth a shot,” Qrow said with a shrug. He moved over to the window and tested the bars. They creaked when he tugged on them, but they had been drilled into the stone walls; it would take more than a few tugs to pull them loose. 

“Tie the bed sheets around them,” Joanna said. “Then we can all help.” 

Fiona hurried over and grabbed an armful of blankets off the bed, holding them out to Qrow to tie around the bars. He made quick work of tying a blanket around each of the bars, while Fiona passed the ends to the others. 

“On the count of three,” Qrow said. “Ready?” 

Once he got a nod from everyone, Qrow began the countdown, trying to keep as quiet as he could lest he alert the guards outside. Under their combined efforts, the metal began to groan, bending outwards ever so slowly. And then, at last, with a crash and a shriek, it the iron bars snapped out of the stone. Qrow leaped in front of the fae as they scattered, taking the full force of the impact. 

“Hey!” The lock clicked and the handle began to turn, but Fria raised a hand, and within moments, the entire door was covered in ice, too thick for the guards to make it through. 

“We gotta go!” Robyn said. “Clover!” 

Qrow tossed the iron across the room as Clover ran past, leaning out the window and stretching his hand towards the tree beneath them. Wood creaked, and Clover gritted his teeth, beckoning the tree closer, while the guards chipped away at the ice. 

“That’s gonna have to do, we don’t have time,” Robyn snapped. 

“You go. I’ll take Fria,” Clover said. “Then everybody else. Be prepared for guards to meet us at the bottom.” 

Robyn jumped up onto the windowsill and shattered the glass with a kick. She glanced inside one last time before leaping down onto the tree below. Clover extended a hand to Fria, and for a moment, Qrow thought she wouldn’t take it. After a few agonizing moments, she reached out and stepped forward, letting him wrap help her up onto the windowsill and wrap an arm around her waist. 

“I’ll see you at the bottom,” he said to Qrow, and then he and Fria were gone, plummeting out of the window. 

“Let’s go,” Qrow said. He climbed up, looking out over the edge with a small grimace. It was still a long drop to the tree, and if he missed. . . With a deep breath, he leaped over the edge. 

His stomach dropped as he fell, and he let out a small, undignified grunt as he hit the branches. They twisted around him, cushioning his fall and dropping him gently onto the lower branches. 

_Clover_. 

He dropped down onto the ground next to Clover, who was watching Robyn examine the burns on Fria’s wrists, a small frown twisting his face. 

“So that’s what iron does to you?” Qrow asked. 

“I . . . Yeah,” Clover said. 

“You were sending me after Robyn with something that would do that.” 

“Yeah.” 

“At least you have the wherewithal to feel bad about it.” 

Fiona leaped down next to them, cutting that conversation short. A few moments later, May and Joanna joined them. Robyn nodded to them, and they started across the garden, ducking behind hedges or fountains every time guards thundered past. They were so, so close to freedom- the trees of the forest were in sight-- when a pair of bolas, made out of that strange purple rope, wrapped around Qrow and dragged him down into the grass. Clover skidded to a halt and knelt down next to him, fumbling with the rope, but no matter how much he cursed under his breath, it wouldn’t respond to his touch. 

“Get out of here,” Qrow hissed. 

“No.” 

“Now!” 

Clover looked up as the guards surrounded them, his hand resting on Qrow’s shoulders as his eyes darted around. Qrow heard Fiona shout, but he couldn’t quite make out the words. They were so close, if  _ somebody _ made it out of here, he prayed to the gods that, if they would listen to him for once, let Robyn and her team escape. 

“Qrow, trust me,” Clover said softly. 

He gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, and Qrow didn’t say anything- he can’t- because even as Clover rose to his feet, the ground began shaking under them. Qrow craned his neck, looking up at Clover as he held his hands out, palm first, as if warding off the soldiers, his eyes glowing a blinding green. Qrow had to turn his face away as a wall of thorns rose out of the ground, sending dirt flying in every direction. 

It’s not until the rumbling stops and Fiona dropped down next to him, pulling the ropes away into nothingness, that he looks back up at Clover, bent over gasping for breath. And Qrow is somehow awed and terrified all at once, but he shakes it off and gives a quick not to Fiona as he pulls Clover’s arm over his shoulders and practically carries him away, following after Robyn all the way to Mantle. 

Clover doesn’t even protest as they cross the border, resting his head against Qrow’s shoulder as they trudge across the rocky grassland in silence. 

Qrow found Clover on the roof of Robyn’s home, his knees tucked up against his chest, deep in thought and staring up at the stars. He started as Qrow sat down next to him, but a smile broke out over his face at the sight of him. His heart fluttered at the thought that just his presence had brought out that brilliant smile, even if he was still mad at Clover. 

“Hey,” Qrow said. 

“Hey,” Clover echoed. 

“Something on your mind?”

“A lot,” he said. He laughed, but it rang hollow, and even Banshee poked its head from Qrow’s pocket to blink up at the fae. Clover leaned back on his hands and stretched out his legs, turning his gaze back up to the stars. “Ya know, when I first saw those Huntsman chasing you, I didn’t expect to save you.” 

“How long were you watching?” Qrow asked. 

“Long enough. But I saw how you tried  _ not _ to hurt them, even at the expense of yourself. I . . .” Clover ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in odd places. Qrow thought it looked rather cute, imperfect and messy like that- not that he would ever tell Clover that. His head was big enough as it was. “I couldn’t just leave you there.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Crossing into your realm is one thing, but bringing you back here?” He laughed nervously. “I’m not a huge rule-breaker, Qrow, but for some reason, I keep breaking all these rules for you. And I’ve found I really don’t mind.” 

“Wow, what a total rebel,” Qrow teased. 

“Shut up.” 

“Like you could make me.” 

“Is that a challenge?” Clover looked over at him and raised an eyebrow, but Qrow heard the catch of his breath, saw the quick blink of his eyes. 

“It can be.” 

“Are you okay with this?” 

“Yeah,” Qrow said. “I mean, I’m still a little mad at you, but yeah, I’m okay with this.” 

“We should talk about that.” 

“We should. But, I’m tired. I was thrown in jail and then broken out of jail, and then broke an ancient faerie queen out of prison, and then had to flee a legion of angry fae, so, when we’re both rested and ready, we’ll talk about it.” 

“I can agree to that,” Clover said quietly. “It has been quite the day.” 

“I’d still like to kiss you though.” 

“I’d like that too.” 

Qrow scooped Banshee out of his pocket and set it off to the side. After some consideration, he took it and spun it around, so it wasn’t staring at them with its wide (wholesomely creepy) eyes. It squeaked indignantly, but it stayed that way, probably pouting- Qrow didn’t really care at the moment. 

Clover waited until he had turned back around before leaning forward, closing the distance between them and pressing their lips together. Qrow fumbled for a moment, caught up in the feeling of Clover’s hand on his hip, warm and gentle, and the smell of his skin, closer than he’d ever been before, like the forest after it rained, fresh soil and vibrant leaves. 

When his brain finally caught up- probably only seconds, but gods, it felt so much longer, and still way too fast- he reached up and tangled a hand through Clover’s hair. It was just as soft as it looked, and the touch drew a small gasp from the fae. Qrow broke away with a smile, resting his forehead against Clover’s as they both caught their breath. 

“Not too bad,” Qrow said after a few moments. 

“Not too bad?” Clover laughed, those bright green eye’s finding Qrow’s, and shit, they were even prettier up close, how was that even possible? “Your face says otherwise, pretty bird.” 

“Bird?” Qrow demanded. He pulled away and glared at Clover. “Because of my name?” 

“Well, it is a bird,” he pointed out. Qrow huffed- he had to deal with bird jokes from his nieces, now Clover too? “Okay, okay, no bird nicknames, got it.” 

“You’re finding it way too funny,” Qrow grumbled, glaring at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“It’s a little funny.” 

“That’s it.” Qrow moved to stand up, but Clover reached out and took his wrist, looking up at him with those stupid green eyes. He at least had the decency to look apologetic, so Qrow let the smile he was trying (and failing) to hide go. 

“Stay, please. I’ll make it up to you.” 

Qrow pretended to think about this, before sighing and nodding. He plopped back down, careful not to sit on Banshee, and stretched out across Clover’s lap. “How about you tell me that story Elm never got to finish?” 

“Oh, Brothers.” 

“You said you would make it up to me,” Qrow pointed out. 

“You drive a hard bargain.” Clover rolled his eyes, but he leaned back on one hand again, the other running through Qrow’s hair as he began talking. “Well, Elm got it in her head that I was lonely and needed to get out more. Of course, she decided a blind date was the best way to go, but the guy she set me up with? Was my ex.” 

Qrow burst into laughter. Clover’s cheeks burned bright red, and Banshee looked over with a questioning chirp. He covered his mouth until his laughter died down, looking up at the fae with a small smile. 

“I woulda loved to see that,” he said. “What happened?” 

“Elm almost died,” Clover answered. Qrow couldn’t tell if he meant that literally, but he could easily see Clover chasing her around with that fishing rod. He laughed again, softer this time, and settled back against Clover’s lap, letting his eyes flutter shut at Clover resumed playing with his hair. 

Banshee curled up against his side, snoring softly, and soon enough, Qrow felt himself drifting off, his head pillowed on Clover’s laps and gentle fingers carding through his hair. 


	11. Don't Be an Idiot Challenge: Failed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: violence, blood

Qrow woke curled against Clover’s side, his head pillowed on his chest and his heartbeat thumping steadily in his ears. The sky above them was still dark, but most of the stars had faded, and he could see the faintest hint of light peeking over the horizon. Grass had sprouted from the wooden boards under them, giving them some sort of padding. At least Qrow’s legs weren’t numb. 

He had a little time, so he watched Banshee, snoring softly on Clover’s stomach, and listened to the drum of the faerie’s heart under his ear. When the birds began to chirp, Clover stirred, his hand coming up to rest between Qrow’s shoulders. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Qrow said. 

“It’s not even sunrise,” Clover grumbled. 

“Don’t you usually wake up before sunrise?” 

“Shut up, I’m comfortable.” 

Qrow delivered a sharp poke to Clover’s side, and he started with an undignified yelp, nearly spilling Banshee onto the roof. He shoved Qrow away and huffed, and he couldn’t help but snicker at the way he scrunched his nose up in a pout. 

Adorable. 

He turned serious after a moment and sighed. They still needed to talk about, well, everything, and Qrow wasn’t exactly looking forward to this conversation. Clover’s shoulders slumped as he sat up and shifted to face Qrow. 

“May told me what you did to Mantle.” 

Clover winced, and his eyes slid away from Qrow’s, focusing on his fingers as he picked at a speck of dirt on the roof. 

“I truly did believe we were helping,” he said after a moment. “That we would be stronger if we united the Courts. Ironwood believed it, still believes it, I’m sure, and I trust him. I would have followed him through the gates of hell, and whatever motivated him to push for taking over Mantle scared him. So I did as he asked.”

“That’s not an excuse.” 

“It’s not,” he agreed. “But it’s an explanation. So, please trust me when I say that he didn’t do it out of malice. He’s scared of something, and once we deal with this vampire, I intend to find out what.” 

“Okay,” Qrow said. “But don’t make me regret that.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Do you think this vampire and whatever has him so scared are related?” 

“It’s possible,” Clover sighed. “Tyrian wasn’t exactly forthcoming about much the last time he showed his face.” 

Qrow opened his mouth to reply and froze. Clover’s forehead creased with worry, but Qrow was on his feet before the faerie could get a word out. 

“Blood,” he rasped. “Something’s wrong.” 

Clover was hot on his heels as he leaped down onto the windowsill and slipped inside. Robyn looked up from her mug as Qrow thundered down the stairs and skidded into the kitchen with an eyebrow raised, but when she caught sight of her expression, she pushed herself to her feet. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. 

“I smelled blood,” Qrow said. 

“Shit. May!” 

“On it!” May’s voice came from somewhere to his left, though the woman herself was suspiciously absent. 

“Where?” Robyn asked as she grabbed her crossbow from the table. 

Qrow started towards the door, but a hand around his wrist stopped him. He glanced back to see Clover, chewing on his bottom lip as he glanced towards the window. 

“The sun,” he said. 

“I’ll live,” Qrow said. He pulled his wrist away and nodded to Robyn. “Follow me.” 

Clover made a small noise behind him, but as Qrow started out the door, he could hear both Robyn and Clover behind him. If the vampire had decided to show his face again, they’d need all the help they could get, but if it was Atlas, retaliating for their botched rescue yesterday, who would Clover side with? Qrow wanted to believe that he would remain by their side, but . . . He couldn’t worry about that right now. 

He stopped in the street and glanced both ways, before taking off towards the smell of blood, faint in the air, but steadily growing stronger as he ran. A strange silence hung in the air, devoid of any birds or crickets or anything, really, except their harsh breathing and heavy footsteps. Qrow rounded the next corner and his breath caught in his throat. Clover and Robyn nearly crashed into him as he skidded to a halt, but for a brief second, he couldn’t force his muscles to move as horror crashed down on him. 

One of the Mantle children huddled on the ground, cradling a gash on his side, still weeping blood between his fingers. Penny stood in front of him, a sword drawn and pointed at the man before her, that horrible, too-sharp smile plastered on his face and blood dripping from his fingers. 

The vampire. 

Tyrian. 

“Get away from them!” Robyn shouted, and the spell was broken. Qrow leaped forward and stepped between Penny and Tyrian. Clover stepped up beside him, flicking that silver-hooked fishing rod to its full length. 

“Oh, you’ll do just fine.” He giggled and flicked the blood off his fingers before reaching behind him and drawing the sword from the sheath on his back. 

“I don’t think so,” Clover said. 

“My queen asked, and so it shall be done.” 

“There you go again with that nonsense.” 

Tyrian’s face contorted with something akin to rage and he lunged forward, swinging the sword at Qrow. He braced himself to dodge, but Tyrian turned on a dime and deflected the silver hook towards Qrow. He leaped away with a curse, giving Robyn a clear line of fire to shoot a bolt at the vampire. He flipped backwards, landing in a half-crouch with the sword in one hand and his tail curled behind him, ready to strike. 

“Penny, you and Ash need to get out of here,” Robyn said behind him. 

“But-” 

“Go!” 

Qrow didn’t have time to see if Penny and the kid actually left. Tyrian snarled and lunged forward again, and he was relentless, attacking with a fierce determination that even the three of them had trouble matching. He dove after Clover with the sword, driving him off balance so he couldn’t get a good swing in with that fishing rod. When Qrow tried to leap in to help, that stinger flew up, and he only just managed to avoid it piercing his side. 

“I can’t get a clear shot,” Robyn hissed. 

“Just get ready,” Qrow fired back. 

Clover was going to get hurt- he was good, but this vampire was fast, and he seemed tireless. What he’d done to those other fae flashed before Qrow’s eyes, and he refused to let that happen again. Not when he could do something to stop it. 

“Qrow,” she started, but anything she said fell on deaf ears. 

His focus narrowed to Clover and Tyrian, the way Clover reached out with one hand as if to call plants, leaving himself wide open for the vampire’s claws swiping at his side. As much as Qrow wanted to flinch away, he forced himself forward. His feet carried him right into the vampire’s back, and they both crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs. White-hot pain seared through his side and the coppery scent of fresh blood-  _ his _ blood- filled his nose. 

He ignored it and sank his teeth into Tyrian’s shoulder. The other vampire howled and thrashed, but he forced himself to hang on until he ripped his shoulder away and twisted, sending him flying across the street with a single powerful kick. Qrow thudded against the ground, distantly aware of shouting- Fiona’s voice, Clover’s voice, was that Fria?. 

He was cold. So cold. Everything was so bright, but he could see darkness creeping up on the edges of his vision as he forced his eyes open, watching as Clover and Tyrian wrestled over the sword. 

Idiot. Qrow had tried to help him and he was still going to mess it up. 

A small laugh bubbled out of Qrow’s mouth, but it turned into a cough halfway through. He frowned, staring down at the blood he’d coughed up onto his arm. Had blood always been purple? He didn’t think it had. Shit, that was probably bad. 

He tried to force himself up onto his knees, but they gave out and he faceplanted right back onto the ground. 

“Qrow, stop it!” Fiona cried. 

He flinched as her voice grated against his ears, too loud, too close. 

“Clover,” he managed as she helped him onto his back and pressed her hands against the wound. The problem wasn’t that he was bleeding out, he wanted to say. It was that the poison was killing him and there was nothing he could do to stop Clover from getting himself killed too. 

All that came out was a small whimper. 

“Stupid vampire,” she muttered. “You’re not just going to die like this. Asshole.”

Was she upset? She sounded like she was going to cry. 

Qrow didn’t want to think about that, so he glanced past her towards Clover as Tyrian rolled them over and wrested the sword from his grasp. He prayed to whatever god that would listen that Robyn was ready and shouted, “Your queen is stupid!”

It came out slurred and hoarse, but Tyrian heard it, and that was enough. He froze, his head whipping towards Qrow and Fiona. In that split second of distraction, a wooden bolt buried itself in his back. He shrieked, and a moment later, a bright flash of green light crashed into him and sent him flying off of Clover. 

Qrow breathed a small sigh of relief and let the darkness wash over him. 

He honestly didn’t expect to wake up. 

He knew he wasn’t dead, because his side hurt like a motherfucker, and he ached all over, as if he’d been hit by a Goliath. It wasn’t an unfamiliar situation, and for one heart-stopping second, he thought the whole thing had been a fever dream. He pried his eyes open and glanced around the dark room. Someone had left a long-cold mug of tea on the bedside table next to him, and he could guess it belonged to the fae slumped over the side of his bed, fast asleep. 

“You’re an ugly sleeper,” Qrow grumbled. 

“Qrow?” He jolted awake, those beautiful teal eyes bright even in the darkness, and despite the jolt of pain the sudden movement sent through his side, Qrow found himself smiling. 

“How long have you been there?” 

Clover glared at him. 

“Three days.” 

The smile fell from Qrow’s face. 

“Three days?” he demanded. 

“We thought you were going to die, Qrow!” 

“But I didn’t.” 

Clover stared at him incredulously for several long moments. It almost seemed like he was going to get up and walk away, until he dropped his forehead to his arm and a quiet laugh rumbled in his chest. 

“Dammit Qrow. Do you know how stupid that was?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And you did it anyways?” 

“Obviously.” Clover looked up at him again, unamused, but he just shrugged the best he could. “You saw what he did to those other fae. I couldn’t let it happen again.” 

“I know.” Clover’s face softened, and he reached over and took Qrow’s hand in his own. “And it didn’t. But you scared me. You scared all of us. Even Fiona.” 

“I could have sworn she hated me,” Qrow muttered. 

“Fi’s just a little slow to warm up,” Robyn said as she pushed the door open. “Even that little guy was worried.” 

Qrow followed her gaze to the bedside table, where Banshee had curled up in a red bandana, still fast asleep. An incredulous laugh bubbled past his lips, but a moment later it dropped into a cough as the pain in his side flared up again. 

“So, you got him?” Qrow asked. “Tyrian?” 

“Yes,” Robyn answered. “Between all of us, we were able to subdue him.” 

“He’s in custody right now,” Clover added. 

“Shamrock over here thinks Ironwood will be reasonable if we hand him over.” Robyn jerked a thumb towards Clover, who glowered at the side of her head. “Fria agreed to hand him over if Atlas leaves us alone, so we can start figuring out who this Queen is he keeps talking about.” 

“He won’t talk, and I doubt Ironwood will tell us if he gets anything out of him,” Clover said glumly. 

“You can’t go back?”

“I betrayed my Court.” He gave a small shake of his head. “Even if Ironwood wasn’t pissed, the rest of the Council would never allow it.” 

“Clover, I . . .” 

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t. Clover forced a smile, and Qrow didn’t believe it for a second. But then his face softened and he reached out, taking one of Qrow’s hands in his own. “Someone has to make sure you don’t go and do something stupid again.” 

“If you think that’s the last time I’ll do something stupid, think again.” 

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it.” Robyn threw her hands up in the air and started back towards the door, pausing with her hand on the doorknob to look back. “I’m sure everyone will want to see you, but I’ll tell them you’re resting for now.” 

The door shut behind Robyn, leaving Qrow and Clover in silence. 

“I’m actually going to get some rest,” Qrow said after a moment. “I feel like shit.” 

“You kind of look like shit.” 

“Thanks,” he drawled. He shifted to the side and patted the bed next to him. “It’s more comfortable than the roof.” 

Clover hesitated for a moment before standing and sliding onto the bed next to him, slowly, as if the smallest jostle would shatter Qrow like glass. He settled next to Qrow, and he pressed closer to the warmth of his skin, resting his head on his chest so he could hear the steady thump of his heart. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ll be helping us,” Qrow murmured. 

“Me too.” 

Qrow felt himself begin to drift off again in Clover’s arms, and for the first time since he’d arrived in this strange, unfamiliar realm, despite the strange looming threat of Tyrian’s Queen he felt safe. When he woke, they could begin to figure out a plan, but for now, he let himself rest, lulled into a deep, peaceful sleep by Clover’s fingers carding through his hair and his heartbeat in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer, I wanted to make the ending the best I could, but eventually, I decided that there was only so much I could turn it over and over. Hopefully, this is alright! Thank you for sticking with me all this way! 💕

**Author's Note:**

> this is officially the longest chapter I have ever posted ghkdfj
> 
> anyways, feel free to stop by my tumblr, fionathymes, and as always, comments and kudos are much appreciated!


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